


Blood of the Sun

by anime_and_chill (seeing_blue)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Protagonist, Flowers, Friendship, Girl Moves to Ikebukuro Because Story, Humor, Ikebukuro, Loving Parents, POC Protagonist, Romance, Supernatural Abilities, kinda slow burn, rarepair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeing_blue/pseuds/anime_and_chill
Summary: Marigold Isoko knows her passions, her hobbies, her fears. She knows who she is.She just doesn't know what she wants in life.And that was one of the reasons, she supposed, why she moved to Ikebukuro. But she should have known that the city wasn't going to give her what she wanted with no strings attached.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm as much of a Shizuo/Izaya shipper as the the next person, but this fic idea has been eating away at me for too long. 
> 
> I don't even know if this fandom is alive, but...
> 
> Hope all of you like it!

Ikebukuro was such a big city that it didn't care about me. It didn't care that I was new and foreign. It didn't care that I was full of my own dreams, aspirations, and adventure. It didn't care about my past, and it didn't care about my future.

Meaning that I could do just about whatever I wanted.

The notion was as frightening as it was exhilarating.

For all of my excitement and anxiety, though, it was pretty anticlimactic when I was given the keys to my somewhat small apartment and tiredly dumped all of my belongings onto the hardwood floor. My entire livelihood now revolved around a suitcase, a carry-on, one travel-worn backpack, a satchel, and a small, rolled shiki futon I bought at the airport. Everything else was back home...and home was across the ocean and about two hundred miles inland.

Though there would be no background music to this moment in my life, I found myself smiling as I walked over to the small, glass-paned terrace door. Light was shining through it and exposing the small floaties and dust particles that drifted in the stuffy air. When I unlocked it and carefully slid it back, my senses were overwhelmed with sounds, tastes, and smells carrying on the warm wind. There wasn't much of a view; the street below was a narrow one, but wide enough that people could mill about to various shops and small restaurants dotting the ground level. The building across was similar in size and color to my own. On its floor level there was a laundromat and a cafe. Still, I had enough room on the terrace for a little table and some plants.

After standing around for a few moments taking in my surroundings, I turned and walked back inside to unpack what little items I could. I put my toiletries in the washroom, placed a single Bluetooth speaker on the kitchen counter, set a Penn State magnet on the fridge, plugged in my laptop and phone, set my glasses next to it, and unrolled the futon. Moving it to the even emptier bedroom would be a later priority. I needed to shower, I needed to eat, I needed to get  _living,_ but right now, I would just...

Sleep. Sleep to the sounds of the new world outside.

-

When I awoke, a red glow had seeped into the room from the terrace door. I rolled over and squinted, reminding myself that I needed to get some curtains for it so I wouldn't have to face the problem later on in life. Groping for both my glasses and phone, I checked the time to see if I would still be able to do some shopping. According to my empty stomach, food was much needed right now--and maybe some kitchen supplies, come to think of it. Hell, I didn't know. Everything I did in life was spontaneous and winged. How else would I have ended up here in this city?

My life was one big hypocrisy, I knew. I was somebody who did things "randomly" and "without warning," but I always  _planned_ as to how I was going to do so. I would save up money to go on a road trip to see a band halfway across the state, or I would do my homework ahead of time so I could suddenly miss school for three days. And I had been working hard to shove money into my savings account so I could "spontaneously" move to Japan. It was as if I wanted to act without direction, but always prepared to do just that.

I had been asleep when Mom messaged me. Crap. I forgot to respond before I passed out. Everything we did was online due to the international calling restrictions. But if I didn't answer her, I knew she would think I was already dead and shoved in a dumpster.

Before I called her back, I rummaged around in my backpack for a bandana to put on. It would hold back the unmanageable mess of dark brown coils springing from my head. After that I moved to the kitchen area and propped myself on the counter as I requested for a video message.

She responded almost immediately. At first the quality of the image was grainy, but the WiFi connection in my building was thankfully good and sharpened the screen.

_"Mari-chan! I thought you were dead in a dumpster! Don't worry me like that again."_

Aki Isoko was a petite Japanese woman with her hair always pulled back and tended to wrestle those bigger than she (i.e. my dad, me). It was well past midnight where she was in the states, but still she looked unaffected by fatigue. 

"Sorry, Mama," I apologized in a sing-song voice. She narrowed her eyes at me and exaggeratedly waggled a finger. It was a prime motion she made that Dad and I often used to impersonate her with.

_"You had better be sorry. I have to take on the worry your father has, as well! That's double the amount of stress on me."_

I rolled my eyes at the blatant lie, but it was all in good fun.  _"Don't listen to her, Mari-chan!"_ my father chimed as he butted his head into view of my mother's tablet.  _"We know you're a big girl. And don't let your mother fool you; she's been jumping on your bed ever since you left."_

Masuyo Isoko was a stooping Japanese man with laugh-lines etched around the corners of his eyes and who had an infectious laugh. He liked to pretend he was a gangster and taught an advanced economics class at Penn State, the same college I attended. He was the Daddest of All Dads in my opinion. 

It wasn't a secret that I had been adopted. It also explained why I could speak both fluent Japanese and English. Both my parents came from families that were immigrants from Kyoto. They were both older when I was adopted, mainly because after they had worked hard for a large portion of their lives, they found that Mom couldn't have children of her own. So, naturally, I was put into their family not a week after I was born. And I've been loved unconditionally ever since.  They even encouraged my spontaneous and independent personality--so much that when I told them I decided to move to Tokyo they nearly burst into tears of joy. Sure, they were sad that their only daughter was leaving, but their happiness for me was something unexplainable. I didn't know where I would be without them.

I spoke about my flight, my apartment, and my experiences in the single day I had been in Ikebukuro. They could have talked with me for the rest of the evening, but I told them to go to bed so they could get at least a little bit of sleep. To which my dad replied,  _"I'm testing out how well I can keep up with my students by getting four hours of sleep or less!"_ To which my mom responded with an elbow to the chest.

Once the call ended, I cleaned myself up a bit by washing off my body in the shower, brushing my teeth, and throwing on a clean pair of clothes before heading out. It was time to get a culture shock.

Being stared at was not an unfamiliar circumstance back home, so it didn't particularly affect me here. Being an entirely different race from my parents was always a cause to turn heads, no matter how "nonjudgmental" it may have been. I used to wonder when I was a little girl, but now I understood. No, it wasn't something one saw every day, but the many people that took second glances were still typically good people.

And the whispers from the not-so-good people? I learned to take those in stride. What else could I do? Let it consume me and twist my view on the world? Nah. That wasn't really how I handled life. I knew who I was. Whispers couldn't hurt me. Words couldn't hurt me.

Not a lot of things could hurt me.

I was following directions on my phone to the nearest shop that sold household items when a booming voice called out, "You! Come try Russia Sushi! It's good! Very good! You enjoy, I promise!"

My eyes looked up from the screen of my phone to see a giant man with skin a couple shades darker than my own. He beamed when our gazes met. "Yes, come to Russia Sushi! I can tell you're hungry! Sushi fill you up!" He spoke in broken Japanese with a Russian accent heavily influencing it.

Well, sushi  _did_ sound good. I looked behind the man to get a glimpse of the restaurant behind him and slightly frowned. It wasn't the best-looking place. And it was also called  _Russia Sushi,_ no less. "I won't get food poisoning, will I?" I questioned. The man laughed heartily.

"No! We are clean, I promise. Food is good!" A flyer was shoved into my hands promoting the place. "Come in! Come in!"

I pursed my lips momentarily before smiling and shrugging my shoulders. "It's not the first thing I had in mind when I walked out my door, but alright. Why don't you tell me what's the difference between Russian sushi and Japanese?"

He laughed again and led me inside. "It is delicious in its own way! You will love it!" He even opened the door for me. "You are not from Ikebukuro, no? I have not seen you around this part of the city, before."

"I just moved here," I answered, excited to talk to somebody so nice about my new life. The smells of food that hit me made my stomach awaken and roar.

"Russia Sushi welcomes you, then!" 

A stool at the sushi counter was pulled out for me. I slid myself onto it and started looking at the menu. "We serve you well!" I was assured. "You won't be disappointed!"

I was still a little iffy on the whole thing, but what didn't kill me made me stronger, I supposed. So I ordered something random, uncaring if I had ever tried it before or not.

"So why you come to Ikebukuro?" I was asked. 

My shoulders shrugged up and down before saying, "I felt like it."

"Nobody moves to Ikebukuro because they feel like it," the man chuckled knowingly as he started to work on the other side of the counter. I was then regarded with a somewhat kind, unnerving gaze. "So what secret do you run from?"

I calmly smiled back and peered at him through round, wire-rimmed glasses. "The only time I run is when I'm charging into war," I responded with such casualness it caught him off-guard for a moment.

Then he winked and said, "You will be great addition to Ikebukuro. What is your name?"

"Marigold Isoko," I replied. "Pleased to meet you."

"A pleasure. I am Simon Brezhnev."

After becoming acquainted with the Russia Sushi chef, I was presented with the strange meal I ordered and dug in. It was surprisingly...good. Different--extremely different--but good nonetheless. As I ate, Simon told me about the city, such as where and who to avoid, the places that were the best to shop at, fun places to visit, and the specials at this particular restaurant. He imparted that last bit of information very seriously.

Just as I was about to pay and leave, I heard the bell by the door  _ding_ and glanced over my shoulder to absently see who the newcomers were. Simon beamed when he saw them and exclaimed, "Shizuo! Tom! It is good to see you!"

A few stools away two men took up seats. One had dreads and wore a casual business suit, and the other had blonde hair and donned a...bartender's getup? That was what it looked like, at least. "Hello Simon," said the first. "Just the usual, please."

The blonde was sitting nearest to me. Our eyes met. "Who're you?" he asked bluntly.

"A nice, new customer," Simon responded before I could. "Do not be giving her stink eye, Shizuo."

"I'm not giving anybody anything," he grumbled in reply.

I offered a small wave and paid Simon. "Thank you for the food. I'll be back soon."

"Good, good! And stop by if you are in need of help moving in!"

"Alright," I grinned, slid off the stool and onto the ground, and exited.

As I walked out into the city once more, I couldn't help but reflect on what Simon had asked me earlier about running from some secret. I  _did_ have secrets, but none that I couldn't bear.

Well...there was just this one  _big_ one, but eh, not big enough to swallow me with its shadow.

A few hours and an armful of bags later, I was walking back to my apartment. Setting up shop was always an exciting notion, so I couldn't help but move a bit more quickly through the streets to get back to the apartment. Despite the later hour I felt as if I could stay awake the whole night. Due to the time difference and my own strange sleeping patterns, I would probably stay up until the early morning and then crash once more for a few hours.

My Bluetooth speaker was set on the counter playing some weird playlist on Soundcloud that was a mixture of jazz, indie, and electronic music. I gently rocked my hips, shoulders, and head to the beats as I unpacked what I could. All my kitchen supplies were a set of four: plates, bowls, chopsticks, forks, spoons, knives, glassware, and teacups were equal and even. The only thing I had that wasn't part of a set was the pot and pan I bought, and a mug I had brought with me from home. I had gotten it as a graduation gift from my mom. Small flowers and triangular shapes encircled the white ceramic. On both sides were two vibrant marigolds.

Tomorrow I would have to go and find flower shops in the area. I had already gone long enough without being near plants; to do so any longer was to suck away my life force. It was purely coincidental that I had been named after a type of flower and ended up having a passion for them. Coincidental and amusing.

In my small fridge were some fresh vegetables, eggs, milk, and fruit. It was enough for me to make breakfast and maybe a small lunch, but I would shop for more food tomorrow. What I  _did_ remember to get was a curtain for my terrace door. Mom always had a fear of unwelcome strangers peering into the house if the curtains weren't drawn after dusk, and that tick passed onto me. I'd have to tell her of my accomplishment when I called them again.

As I sat on the futon with my laptop in front of me, scrolling through job postings in the nearby area, I found myself grinning. Here I could have a whole new lift, a whole new identity. Things were weird here in Ikebukuro, things so weird that my own weirdness would blend in perfectly.

I let out a small screech and threw myself backwards onto the futon, legs kicking wildly in the air.

-

With a bachelor's degree in horticulture and an emphasis in floriculture, it wasn't difficuult for me to land a job at a nearby flower shop. It was exactly where I wanted to be, especially with an owner like Mr. Shintaro. Once he learned I spoke fluent Japanese he nearly hired me right on the spot. And with a position for a forty-hour work week, I knew I would be able to scrape by on rent and essentials. "Maybe a little bonus, too," Mr. Shintaro winked after we had shaken hands, "for the special customers.

I wasn't sure what "special customers" would be affiliated with a flower shop, but I continued to smile and thank him. My starting salary would begin around ¥1,000, which was a nice wage for working at a flower shop of all places. It was all the more reason to become an employee. 

With my first day starting tomorrow, I left the shop and headed to a vending machine so I could grab a drink. The day was beginning to heat up already, despite the fairly early morning hour. It was just how I liked it. Flowers thrived in heat, after all.

I began depositing money in a machine I found on the same street, looking through all the options I never had back in America. As I was doing so, a door to the building the vending machine rested up against burst open. A man stumbled through, making high-pitched, frantic cries. He looked desperately over his shoulder as an angry roar came from within.

Brows furrowed, I continued to watch the scene unfold as my drink was slowly being delivered to me. The man booked it down the opposite street like he was running for his life. I couldn't blame him, if he was fleeing from the blonde-headed bartender that barreled through the door in pursuit. "You think you can just run away?" he bellowed. Behind him was another man in a casual business suit meandering along, acting like this was a common occurrence.  _Shizuo and Tom,_ I remembered,  _the same two men I had seen last night at Russia Sushi._

My drink was now at the bottom of the vending machine's slot. Before I could grab it, however, it was lifted off the ground by Shizuo and raised above his head. All the while he continued to rant about whoever was running away from him. 

"Aw man," I sighed as I watched Shizuo hurl it down the street. The other people milling about knew when to duck and cover, so there was nobody in the way as the vending machine clipped the man's shoulder and set him careening painfully to the ground. It continued to roll on the pavement a few times before coming to a beat-up, damaged, drink-oozing mess.

"Dude," I said in English before switching back to Japanese, "my drink was in there. You could have at least waited until I got it before you decided to go John Cena."

Shizuo realized I was talking to him. He looked down through his blue-tinted sunglasses to see me staring sadly at the broken vending machine. "S-sorry," he stumbled, all anger gone out of him.

"What did that guy do to make you so pissed-off?" I asked nonchalantly as I pushed my spectacles up.

"He called my mother a whore."

"Huh. Then I guess a lost drink wasn't so bad," I replied after pushing my lips to the side. "But I'm going to see if there's anything still salvageable. Everything's free now, I'm assuming?"

Shizuo was staring at me with a bemused expression as I walked to the crash site. I had to sidestep the guy who had been struck by the vending machine. Tom was calmly talking to him about some money he owed. Well. That made more sense, I supposed. Those two were debt collectors. Or, more likely,  _Tom_ was probably the debt collector and Shizuo the hired muscle.

I lightly kicked aside the broken glass near the vending machine as I knelt down to see if anything wasn't busted open. There was one  _way_ in the back that I saw nestled and still whole.

Glass and broken metal scraped against my skin as I reached for it. "Hey, watch it, you're going to cut yourself," said Shizuo from behind me. I grabbed the soda can and pulled it free, smiling at my accomplishment. 

"Nah, I'm fine," I stated as my arm became exposed once more. It was unharmed from all the sharp objects it came into contact with. Shizuo's eyes narrowed for a moment as he looked at the uncut, dark flesh. "But I have a feeling that this soda is going to be  _very_ fizzy when I open it." I flipped the tab halfway to let some of the air out, but not enough that any of the pop itself came surging through. With the can partially opened, I began to slurp on its contents.

Shizuo grunted and began to walk away. "I'm Marigold, by the way," I said before he could fully leave. "You're really strong, you know that?"

"Yeah."

"It's pretty awesome."

My sentence seemed to confuse Shizuo for a second. I gave another small wave and turned my own direction, sipping on a foreign drink and planning what I was going shopping for.

So there was a person in Ikebukuro that had superhuman strength. I wondered if he was the only one.

Well, if he was...he wasn't, anymore.

As I rounded the corner of the block and came back to one of the main roads, an unearthly, inhuman sound that came from out-of-nowhere nearly made me piss my pants. Before I could spin around and see what it was, a person clad in black with a yellow, cat-eared helmet rushed by at speeds too fast to be legal on a bike without a license plate. People stopped in their tracks to watch her and gasp in awe. "The Headless Rider," I heard numerous people whisper as I forced myself to walk onward. 

The Headless Rider? Who was that? 

Well. Ikebukuro was getting weirder and weirder.

Sweet.

-

"Hey, do you need help with that?"

I stopped and did a 180-degree spin to look over the boxes I was hauling back up to my apartment. I didn't realize how  _large_ dressers and tables were until I was staring down at the giant, box packages they came in. "Eh?" I called over, trying to crane my head around the boxes to see who was talking to me.

A man similar in my age was walking up to me. He wore a green jacket and a black beanie despite the weather. "All the stuff you're carrying looks kind of heavy. You mind if we help?" A girl and two other guys were flanked behind him.

"Oh, no, thank you, but I got it," I said, trying my best to bow without losing grip of anything.

"Why're you carrying so much stuff in the first place?" the girl asked bluntly.

"I just moved to Ikebukuro," I responded, tilting my head back as subtly as I could to keep my glasses from sliding down my nose. "And I didn't want to take two trips to the shopping center."

"Where'd you move from? You sound American," said the other guy. His lips seemed to have a permanent upturn to them.

"That's because I'm from America," I chuckled. "And since all of you are still standing here, I think I actually will take you up on that offer."

Wordlessly, the man who had first stopped me took the armful of grocery bags I had in one hand, while the girl took some on the other side. "Walker and I can get those boxes for you," said the one with longish brown hair. I smiled again and shook my head.

"Oh, no, you wouldn't be able to carry it," I explained kindly. Their faces fell at my statement, but didn't seem to have concern that I was displaying strength not normal for my size. "But you can make sure that I won't run into anybody."

I soon learned their names. Kadota Kyouhei was the one who first called out to me, Karisawa Erika was the girl, and Umasaki Walker and Togusa Saburo were the other two boys. Erika and Walker bombarded me with questions as to how many Americans watched anime and read manga (I didn't know--probably a lot), what American girls were like (I said they were like most other girls), and why I moved from there to here (I said I didn't exactly know, either).

It was obvious Kyouhei was the leader of their little group. He directed them in a calm, casual manner, and they readily obliged. I immediately took a liking to him--to all of them--and by the time we reached my apartment I offered to make them dinner if they stayed and helped unpack. Seeming to have nothing better to do, they agreed on the deal.

With music playing on my Bluetooth speaker and the terrace door open to let in some fresh air, I began making enough food to feed the five of us. As I did so, they worked together to set up my dresser, the chabudai, and other household things. Erika quit first and flopped down on my futon, pulling out a manga out of nowhere to read. Walker wound up on the floor beside her, fervently discussing what was up with whichever characters they were so obsessed with. Saburo wound up helping me prepare the meal, which left Kyouhei as the sole person still putting together the small dresser I bought for a fairly-priced amount of money. He didn't seem to mind, however, and simply took off his hat and jacket to continue working.

"Not a bad place you got, Isoko," Erika commented at the same time I suddenly realized that I didn't have enough dishes for everybody. "How're you able to afford all of it on your own?"

"I, ah, saved up for a long time," I replied as I calmly tried to come up with a solution to the dishware shortage. "But my parents are able to financially support me, as well."

"Walker," Erika suddenly said as a slow, vulpine smirk curled the corners of her lips, "what do you think Marigold's background story is?"

"Hmm," he contemplated seriously, then raised a finger as he came up with something I was probably going to roll my eyes at. "She was adopted into a kind and loving family who, unaware of her true identity, cherished her with all their might. But Marigold's life wasn't meant to be normal, oh no. She fled here to Japan in order to escape her dark and dangerous past. Come to find out, however, that this is the one place she should have avoided entirely."

"You got it half right," I replied, waving chopsticks at the two of them. "I was adopted, my parents do cherish me, and my life isn't normal. But they had an agreement with my biological mother five months in advance to take me once I was born, and I came here to Japan because I refuse to act like a mature adult and settle down to start a career."

Saburo snorted and Kyouhei hid his smile as Erika and Walker scrambled to come up with something new. Upon confessing to my new assistant that I didn't have enough tableware for all of them, he suggested that we simply eat out of the pan I was cooking in. The other three seemed to be fine with it, and Kyouhei said he would use a fork while the rest of us used chopsticks.

I'm not typically a person who reacts to surprises; it's difficult for me to even  _be_ surprised. But as I was eating with these four people, it shocked me a little when I felt that I had made new friends on my second day living in Ikebukuro.

Weird. Weird indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was lazy and didn't edit this before posting, so forgive me.

_Don't stay outside too long at night, because that's when the Slashers are out._

Or, at least that's what I was told. The Slashers were a gang, apparently--one of several. They liked to...cut people? For whatever reason? I wasn't sure. I had been cleaning my glasses the other night when Erika got into the subject. And I become hard of hearing when I can't see, obviously.

It wasn't as if I had any reason to be out roaming the streets during the dark hours. My shift started at eleven and ended at six, which gave me no reason to be walking home alone on a spooky street. I mean, it wasn't as if I couldn't handle myself, but I was usually one who abstained from getting into sketchy situations. Call it common sense.

I passed Russia Sushi on the way to the flower shop, where I was always greeted with a booming, "Good morning, Marigold Isoko! You come try sushi later on? We have special today! You will like it!"

Though I was sure I would, I wanted to be fiscally responsible and cook my own poor meals that didn't cost a lot. Sadly, that meant no Russia Sushi as often as I wanted. I made it a priority, however, to visit at least once every week and get the cheapest meal on their menu--even then the servings were overabundant. I felt as if I owed it to Simon and Dennis to eat at their restaurant. They were the ones who knew which flower shop was hiring, they always pointed me to the best deals at the markets, and I was pretty sure they were the ones who told Kyouhei to keep an eye out for me. They were good people.

I was lucky to have found the type so fast.

When I was overcome with the smell of flowers, I knew I was home. Mr. Shintaro's shop held an abundance of hyacinths, anemones, azaleas, bluebells, roses, lilies, orchids, and numerous others. He had a greenhouse on top of the building where the flower shop resided. I wasn't allowed in, yet, but if I proved myself then he said I could tend to them. I respected Mr. Shintaro's passion for his flowers; it was on a similar level as my own. Perhaps when--or if--I moved back to the states, I would start up a little shop myself.

A small vase of bright marigolds sat on the counter that I seated myself behind. I smiled at the gesture Mr. Shintaro had made and lightly touched a finger against the ruffled petals, feeling the life radiating from within. The round flowers matched my eyes: the outer iris was molten gold, and the inner was a rich orange. Apparently, they weren't a natural color for eyes, but were the main reason I was named after the flower famous for deterring pests. I wondered if that was the reason I never could attract close friends.

The first half of the day was sunny and clear, but a sudden rainstorm came drifting in around the end of my shift. I smiled at the occurrence; the smell of rain on warm pavement was something I would never tire of. As soon as I work was over, I proudly stepped outside and tilted my head back to feel fat raindrops break against my skin. The walk home only began when I was completely soaked. 

Life was too short not to find joy in the simple things. A million other people had come to that realization before I was even born, but that didn't make it any less true--or genuine.

Mellow beats played in my earbuds as I journeyed back to my apartment, synchronizing with the raindrops bouncing off my skin and the ground. A happy, light feeling built up inside my chest, just  _telling_ me that it was going to be a wonderful evening.

It was difficult to bring my mind back to reality even as I stumbled upon the same black rider I had seen a while ago. She was parked in an alleyway and...talking?...to a man in a long, casual coat whose hands were shoved into the pockets. The rider--whose outfit and biked looked to be made of Shadow itself--typed something onto her phone and showed it to the man. The laugh that poured out of him was laced with a disconcerting amount of carefreeness and contempt. "Silly Celty," I heard him say over my music as he shook his head, "you know that's now what I want. Just do the job, alright? I..." His eyes shifted to the side and met mine. It was as if he had been expecting me. I found myself slowing to a halt, a feeling of dread sinking to the bottom my stomach like a rock.

The man fully turned to face me. A slow smile stretched his lips thin. "Well, well, isn't this a surprise? I must say, I didn't expect to see you quite so soon." He looked back to the rider. "Get going. I'll talk with you later."

The rider turned her head--or helmet--to me, tilting it a fraction. I didn't feel a  _gaze_ on me as much as a sort of sense. It was fleeting, however, and she revved her strange bike and sped away. 

Wait, wasn't there a ¥10,000,000 bounty out for her?

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," the young man--who was actually just around my age--greeted as he casually walked towards me. I shifted my slightly slouching stance and tugged my earbuds free. The beats playing became distant and ringing, which created an almost eerie ambiance. "My name is Orihara Izaya. And you're Isoko Marigold, correct?" Something flashed in my eyes and Izaya drew his hands from his pockets to hold them up defenselessly. "I'm sorry, you think I'm being creepy. I can tell from the look on your face. But not to worry, not to worry! I mean you no harm."

He was now no more than a few feet away. It was close enough that he was able to hold out his hand to me. 

I didn't shake it.

Izaya let it drop, unfazed by my lack of engagement. That same smile was still on his face. "My line of work involves knowing information. And since you were new to Ikebukuro I, of course, had to learn a bit about you. It's nothing personal, believe me, it's just--"

I put my earbuds back in and walked past Izaya. I thought I heard him chuckle at my sudden motion, like he knew I was going to do it all along. Like this whole thing was just a friendly joke. Like we already knew each other. Yeah no, he had definitely been the one giving me bad vibes and not the rider. In fact, the place felt  _safer_ before she left.

The rain no longer felt warm; it was frigid and pelting, making my toes and fingers and nose cold. I wanted to be back in my apartment and sitting in a tub of hot water to try and wash away the feeling of Izaya's gaze sticking to my back even after I ducked around the corner. Shit. That was the  _other_ kind of weird in Ikebukuro. The one that gave people a reason to murmur and hesitate. And from the way Izaya looked at me...had I been an interest to him from the moment I moved here?

How much had he dug up? And what did he think he could use against me? Because nobody looked at people like that if they didn't already have something on them.

"Hey. You're steaming."

My fingers--which were now hot--tugged on the cord to an earbud. I slowed to a stop and glanced over at Shizuo Heiwajima. He was leaning against a wall with a cigarette hanging loosely out of his mouth. A canvas overhang protected him from the downpour, whereas I was drenched from head to toe. "What?" I called.

Shizuo pointed a finger in my general vicinity. "You're steaming," he repeated plainly.

I looked down at an arm and saw that the rain came into contact with my skin was evaporating in little billowing tendrils. Apparently, my water-logged state was in the process of reversal. It was why I never had it in me to invest in an umbrella. "So I am," I said back. Shizuo took his cigarette and flicked it onto the ground so he could crush it with the heel of his shoe.

"What's up with that?"

"I must be running a fever."

His snort was so sudden that I had to let out a small laugh. "Sounds like a load of bullshit, but alright."

"Oh, it is," I chuckled, body temperature returning to normal. It made me become achingly aware of the chill. Rain spattered against the lenses of my bifocal glasses, making it become harder and harder to see what was in front of me. it wouldn't help if I tried wiping them off, seeing as the rest of me was just as wet. But though the odds weren't in my favor, I removed my glasses and gave a few shakes to try and wick away some of the droplets.

"Why're you standing out in the rain, anyways?"

"Why aren't you?"

Shizuo briefly smirked before straightening and joining me in the deluge. I removed my other earbud and wrapped the cords around my neck as I started walking again. Wordlessly he matched my stride, posture slightly slumped to lessen the reality of his height. "So, Shizuo Heiwajima," I spoke, "what's your story?"

"My story?" he relayed. "About what?"

"You know,  _your story._ Everybody has one." I put my glasses back on and watched the lenses become creaked with water once more. "Including yourself."

"And why would somebody I hardly know want to know my story?"

"Well I'm hurt, Shizuo. I thought we knew each other quite well. You did help me score a free soda, after all."

He smirked again. "Fair enough."

"Here, I'll help you get started." I stretched my arms high in the air, standing on my tip-toes for a few moments before letting them drop. "Some people call you the strongest man in Ikebukuro. Why is that?"

"Because I'm strong, apparently."

"Why do you wear a bartender's outfit when you're obviously not a bartender?"

"It was a gift from my brother."

"That's nice. I don't have any siblings. Why is your hair dyed blonde?"

"Tom said it would look good on me."

"Hm. He was right."

Shizuo stumbled slightly. I couldn't help but smile a little as I pushed my glasses further up the bridge of my nose. That smile faded as I asked my next question. "Do you like violence?"

"No. I just...get angry. Then it's like I have no control."

"I see." We reached the end of the street. My building was in view, just beyond the crosswalk. "I mean, it's still not your  _story,_ but it's a start." I turned my head up to Shizuo and smiled. "I expect to hear more, soon."

"And what about you?" he asked suddenly. "Your story. What is it?"

"My story?  _My_ story? You'll have to ask me out if you want that." I pressed the crosswalk button.

Shizuo's eyes widened at the same time his cheeks turned a bright pink. "Take your time," I assured as the white, glowing stick figure on the other end of the street lit up. "I'll be here a while. See you around, Heiwajima Shizuo."

It was only normal that I didn't look over my shoulder.

-

The rather large package waiting at my door was somewhat of a surprise. It came from the states--my parents, specifically. With bubbles of excitement rising inside me, I picked it up effortlessly and took the package inside. If it was what I thought it was...

My fingers tore open the heavy packaging tape and shredded the thick, sturdy cardboard protecting the contents inside. The box was the right length and width to contain only one object I could think of.

I laughed aloud and lifted up the saxophone case amidst a sea of tiny foam peanuts. How much had it cost my parents to ship such a thing overseas? Not that they weren't financially stable enough to do so, but...still. The fact that they had sent such a valuable item to me because they knew how much I missed it sent my heartstrings all a-strumming.

With foam peanuts scattered across the floor and me sitting in the midst of it all, I opened up my saxophone case and saw the glistening instrument just waiting for me to pick it up again. I wanted to talk to my parents, but it was still a bit too early for them to be up back in Pennsylvania. So that would have to wait.

After making sure everything was properly put together, I stood up and began to play. My fingers moved so naturally they seemed to have a mind of their own. I was grateful that my parents had gotten me into playing the saxophone; not only did it fit my personality, but it allowed me to open my mind to the wonders of music. I never fancied the type that had lyrics to them, but electronic, jazz, and classical were my jam. And because of that, I ended up learning how to play a fair amount of piano and a few other instruments. I also wasn't too bad at manning drum pads--that device had yet to be sent from the household of Aki and Masuyo Isoko. But the sax man, the  _sax._

I slid open the terrace door and let the sounds echo into the dimming street. The weather was oppressively hot and humid today; there was no trace of the rainstorm that came by a few days ago. But while most people wilted in this kind of temperature, I simply basked in it. 

As my saxophone glinted glaringly in the sunlight somebody from below shouted at me. "Hey! Marigold!" I leaned over the railing and and saw Erika and her three other friends standing on the street looking back up at me. "What are you doing?"

My saxophone squeaked in response. I then laughed and removed the mouthpiece from between my lips. "Expressing my soul!" I shouted back. "What are you guys doing?"

"We miss you!" Walker responded, cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice. "Come do something with us!"

On a Friday evening? In the summer? That sentence was something that got many people in trouble around this time.

Still I grinned and shouted back, "Come up for a bit while I get ready!"

I turned and went back inside, pushing the foam peanuts into a pile with a bare foot before pressing the button by the door to let Kyouhei and his gang through the front entrance. I put my saxophone in its open case and adjusted my bright cerulean headband before moving to the kitchen and pulling out some mochi ice cream I had made the other night when I was bored. It would be a nice, cool snack for those who didn't appreciate the heat as much as I did.

A short while later the door burst open and Erika, Walker, Saburo, and Kyouhei walked in. Unlike the first time I had met them, they were now dressed in summer apparel. "Ooh, just what I need!" Walker exclaimed as his eyes zoned in on the mochi sitting on the countertop. He and Erika pounced on the treats in a predatory manner while Saburo and Kyouhei approached more calmly. I took one before they disappeared entirely and popped it into my mouth. "You play the saxophone, huh?" Kyouhei observed as he bit into a strawberry-flavored one. I swallowed the food in my mouth before I grinned and glanced over at the open case resting on the couch.

"Yeah. My parents sent it from Pennsylvania. They're pretty awesome."

"I bet," he smiled back.

"So, Mari-chan," Erika interrupted as she chewed, "want to come out with us tonight?"

"Depends on where you're going," I replied. "I'm a foreigner, need I remind you, so if I get into any trouble I'll be deported."

"Aw come on, we do lots of troublesome things but we don't get arrested for it," Erika grinned devilishly as she elbowed me. "Have a little faith in our expertise."

Saburo was lightly touching the leaves of a potted jade plant on my counter as he spoke. "Mostly we just walk around until trouble finds us."

"Sounds exciting, but I'll pass. The thought of having a criminal record in Japan is something I don't want, shockingly."

"Don't worry," Kyouhei put in assuredly, "we'll stay out of trouble just for you tonight."

My attention was diverted as I glanced down at his bruised, scabbed knuckles. "What the hell, man," I muttered. "That needs some antiseptic."

"Huh? Oh. It's nothing I can't handle. Just got it from some asshole gang trying to pick a fight on our turf."

"Need I remind you that knowing all of you are part of a gang and withholding it from the police  _could_ get me deported," I said as I moved to a cupboard and pulled out balm that had yarrow in it. Though I believed that science had come far with helping humanity heal physical wounds, herbal medicine had been around long before then and could succeed just as well. That was just about as hippie as I got. "Give me your hand, Kyouhei." In a sharper voice I added, "And no more mochi for you. For any of you! Gangsters don't get mochi ice cream I slaved over!"

There were cries as I put the confectionaries back in the freezer. Then I washed my hands and began applying balm to Kyouhei's and Saburo's hands. Walker actually had  _burn_ marks on his fingertips. Erika suffered from scuffed-up elbows. "You're going to put Shinra out of business," Walker laughed as I put band-aids on his fingers.

My lips pushed to the side as I recalled where I had heard that name from. "Shinra...that's the backdoor doctor, right?"

"Something like that," Kyouhei confirmed. "I'll tell him that there's a new practitioner in town."

"Uh huh," I muttered absently. Erika pinched my butt to get my attention.

"So are you coming with us or not?"

I sighed and let go of Walker's hand. I knew their intentions before I even let them into the apartment. If I didn't really want to go I wouldn't have allowed them to come inside in the first place.

"Okay, okay, fine." I rubbed the buttcheek Erika had pinched. "And that was more painful than playful, by the way."

"Sorry. But with you wearing shorts like that I couldn't help myself."

-

All in all, the night was fun. We bummed around in Saburo's van until we hit up a few shops on the main streets. Erika and Walker then dragged us to a manga store. Most of our time was spent there until they closed for the evening. After that we meandered through the city and grabbed bento boxes from a street vendor. By then night had fallen and the temperature had cooled a bit.

"Does everybody stare at you this much all the time?" Kyouhei asked casually as all of us sat on an outside table. All the strangers that passed turned their heads, eyes going from my skin and moving to my hair.

"Yeah," I replied easily. "But it's too much effort to be irritated by it. I moved here knowing full well about the stereotypes and differences. It's fun to have staring contests with those who won't drop their gazes, sometimes. I learned that trick whenever I was out in public with my parents."

"Have you met Tanaka Tom? His mom is from the Caribbean."

"Yeah, I've seen him around a couple of times." I couldn't help but smile when I remembered just who worked with Tom. "That's cool to know, though. And I'm guessing his dad is Japanese?"

"Uh huh. She came here to teach English and he was a banker. Really nice folks." We ate a few more sushi rolls before Kyouhei continued. "Have you been touched by random people, yet?"

I snorted and gave a nod. "I cause quite the attraction, apparently. But...eh. It'll take a lot more for me to be fed up."

"Well, if somebody is being a pain in your ass, just let us know," Kyouhei said firmly.

"Yeah, we'll light them on fire!" Walker proclaimed with a  _tad_ too much enthusiasm. 

"And laugh while we watch them burn," Erika hissed excitedly. There was something demonic in her eyes. 

"Thanks," I smiled despite it all. "I appreciate your willingness to burn people for my sake."

Before we could move onto other topics of discussion, the street was overwhelmed with the roar of motorcycle engines revving. Kyouhei and his friends stiffened, postures shifting into hardened stances even though we continued to stay seated. We watched as a biker gang in ostentatious black-and-white striped outfits and motorcycles slowly rolled by, making as much noise as possible.

"Marigold," Kyouhei said lowly, "if something happens, you run back to the van. I'd say go to your apartment but it may be too dangerous."

I ate another sushi roll. "I'll be fine, Dota-chin. Don't worry about me."

He grimaced at my usage of his unwanted nickname. "It's the Toramaru Gang. They're still on our turf."

"And what does that mean?"

"They're looking for a fight."

"Huh. Are they going to get one?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"If we're willing to give them one."

"Okay."

Fortunately for them, the bikers passed without incident. Kyouhei released his tight grip on his chopsticks and continued eating. "And just when we thought things would be quiet in Ikebukuro," Saburo sighed.

"You had better be careful, Mari-chan," Walker idly advised as he sipped on his soda. "You may have just moved here when another gang war is starting."

"Lucky me. Lucky me."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day got weirder.

I was carrying groceries back to my place, preparing to binge Netflix and make myself some ramen. 

Perfectly normal, right?

Right.

As I was strolling through the multitudes of people, the street suddenly became compacted to a near-solid state. Everybody had swarmed into a spacious circle around a distinctive tall figure. I stood on my tip-toes to try and better see what was going on. A small smirk dashed across my lips as I jokingly thought to myself that Heiwajima Shizuo had thrown something. Again.

Wait.

_Oh._

That...that really was Shizuo.

I pushed my way through the crowd using a small amount of strength that normal people weren't supposed to have. When I finally got to the front lines, several emotions passed through me. Most of it was confusion. 

Shizuo and Tom were both examining a stun gun in his hand as he rubbed his back with the other. But the real kicker was the little girl on the ground nearby pushing herself back up. Angry and anxious whispers buzzed through the air.

_"He just knocked that little girl to the ground!"_

_"Somebody get the police."_

_"What a monster."_

"Uh, Shizuo?" I called, stepping forward hastily as to not be swallowed back up by the crowd as it started to move and shift. He snapped his eyes up to me in surprise. "You had better get going. Right now."

He turned his head to the left in time to see police officers forcefully making their way through the multitude. "Damn it," Shizuo cursed. "The little brat sticks a stun gun in me and this is what I get?"

"You should probably run," I suggested as I positioned my grocery bags so I was holding them with one arm. "And run  _now."_

Shizuo lunged and grabbed me by the hand. "Come on," he said through gritted teeth. I made a noise as I was nearly hauled off my feet and dragged through the air like a kite as I raced down the street with Shizuo and Tom. 

"We're not going to be able to explain this!" Tom shouted to the both of us as we ran.

Another voice added into the shouting. "You won't...get away!"

The three of us all looked down to the little parasite wrapped around Shizuo's waist. I nearly tripped over my feet in surprise. It was the fucking little girl, the same one who Shizuo had been accused of knocking down. "Quit running...and die!"

I sputtered a laugh at her shrill declaration. "Tom, got any ideas about what to do about this kid?" Shizuo asked angrily. Though, I think he always sounded angry, so that might not have been his exact emotion. His boss glanced back down at the girl. 

"Gah! What a pain in the ass! You can't shake her?"

"I don't really want to  _throw_ a child, Tom!"

"Fine! You got a friend's house we can crash at?"

As they discussed options my attention diverted to trying to keep my groceries in the bag. Crap. I had eggs in there. And with this much jostling around, them getting cracked or broken was almost guaranteed. What a waste of money.

I considered tearing my hand free from Shizuo so I could stop running, but the police had undoubtedly seen me with the two. And being a black girl in a place where there  _weren't_ many black people, I would probably be recognized easily. Even if I didn't get into serious trouble, it wasn't something I wanted to put myself into. The best option I had was to continue running and lament over my broken eggs later.

Apparently a destination had been set when our tactic of wildly fleeing became a course obviously familiar to Tom and Shizuo. The little girl was still hanging on and strongly suggesting that Shizuo die. I had to give her credit for perseverance.

Wait, no, I  _shouldn't_ give credit to anything. Because what we were doing right now was technically kidnapping!

Our running finally came to an end when we ducked into a fancy apartment complex. The first thing I noticed was that my one sandal now had a broken strap and was barely hanging onto my foot. The little girl dropped from Shizuo's waist and immediately halted in her death threats. She now fell silent as fear shone in her maroon-colored eyes. If Shizuo noticed the reaction, he didn't say anything.

I remained awkwardly quiet as the four of us ascended an elevator with soothing music. Something was leaking at the bottom of my bag and onto my arm. It made for even more uncomfortableness. 

Shizuo made another noise and hurriedly wrenched free of my hand that I had forgotten he was still holding. The panicked act was enough to lessen the awkward feeling and cause me to smile and tilt my head up to him. He refused to look back and instead gazed staunchly forward.

Once the elevator came to a stop we stepped out came to a nearby door. Shizuo rang the doorbell twice. From the other side I heard somebody cry happily, "Celty!" and the sound of feet running on hardwood floor. "I'm glad you're back! I was just thinking about--" The apartment door opened and out stepped a man sporting rectangular glasses and a white lab coat. His face fell when he realized that it was not, in fact, this Celty he had been so happy to see return.

Several questions popped into my mind at once. One: why was this Celty--who most likely lived here--ringing the doorbell to her own place? And two: why was this man wearing a doctor's coat when he wasn't in a doctor's office?

When the door began to promptly close, Shizuo lashed out and held it in place. The man made a whining noise. "Oh, what is it now?" he demanded childishly as he struggled to close the entryway. "If it's about that wounded guy--"

Shizuo yanked the door open all the way. "I know," Shizuo answered. "He's still in town."

"Wait," the other man said as his focus leaped to a whole other subject. He peered down at the tiny figure cowering behind Shizuo. "Who's that?"

The girl peeked her head out from behind him tentatively.

There was a pause before he yelled, "Did you kidnap a  _child?"_

It was Tom who came to Shizuo's defense. "We didn't kidnap anybody," he corrected tersely.

"Well...a-alright. Come on in." The little doctor man turned profile so we could enter the apartment.

"Thanks, Shinra," Shizuo grumbled as he walked in. The munchkin had all but glued herself to his legs. Tom followed, then me.

"Uh, hello," I said to Shinra with a small bow. He optimistically grinned and held up a hand in salutation. 

"Hello!"

"This may be an odd question to ask, but is there any place I can throw away my groceries? Had I known I would be running half a mile in two minutes I wouldn't have bought any, but...here we are."

"Sure! And I'm sorry about your groceries." I walked behind Shinra as he led me into the apartment to show me where the garbage can. 

Shizuo watched as I dumped the bag into the waste bin. There was a twinge of guilt on his face. "Sorry," he muttered apologetically. I washed my hands and arm in the kitchen sink to get rid of the icky substance that had seeped onto my skin. 

"It's alright," I said with a smile. "I can always go grocery shopping another time."

Meanwhile, Shinra began pouring drinks. "If you're looking for Celty," he said as he did so, "she's out on a job right now. Though to be perfectly honest, I don't think she's been all that keen on accepting them as of late." He began rambling on about other gang groups, then about Celty, then about Celty in an apron, then about...him in an apron? I wasn't following along too well. I was too busy being concerned about the little gremlin, who had curled up against the wall on the other side of the room and was softly crying. So once I had dried myself off I padded towards her and took a seat on her left.

"Hey," I spoke softly, "you alright?"

She only continued to cave inward on herself. "My name is Marigold," I went on. "Like the flower. Can I put my arm around you?"

A single nod. I did so with ease and pulled the child close to me. Shizuo, Tom, and Shinra were discussing what had happened over their drinks, leaving me to wonder why somebody no older than eight would want to kill the tall blonde. But maybe once she calmed down I would find the answer. 

Shinra suddenly jumped up and scrambled to the other side of the room, calling with feigned airiness, "Anyway, I had a feeling you wouldn't kidnap the girl. Why would you when all you have to do is rip open a bank vault with your bare hands?"

Shizuo's shoulders stiffened. I heard a growl coming from him, but Tom put a hand on his arms and calmed him down with a few words. Shinra came before the child and me and crouched down, saying, "Would you mind telling me your name?" he asked politely.

She opened her mouth, but instead of giving an answer all that came out were a couple of hoarse coughs. My brows furrowed in concern. Shinra put a hand to her forehead and felt her temperature. He frowned and turned his head to Shizuo and Tom, who were now sitting at the table. "Hey, there's a guest futon in the other room. Get it ready, would you? She has a fever."

Before either of them could make it to the next room I said haltingly, "Oh, uh--uh, she's going." The small person in my arms limply lolled her head back. In one motion I swept her in my arms and stood to take her to the extra futon.

"Didn't you notice her temperature?" Shinra questioned as we moved. 

"We had just got done running. I figured she was flushed because of that," I answered. I stepped into the room and knelt down to lower the child into the futon Shizuo and Tom had scrambled to set up. "And her damn hair hung so much in her face I didn't really see how red it was."

"Help me get her out of her school uniform," Shinra instructed in a comfortable doctor's voice. "I don't want her being sick in them."

Shizuo and Tom stepped out as we worked until she was out of her clothes and in a small hospital dress. I hid the brief puzzlement I was experiencing as I wondered why he had one on hand. But no more than a second later I remembered Kyouhei mentioning who he was a while back.  _He_ was the underground doctor people got plastic surgery or undocumented medical procedures from. 

I tied my hair up in a small, sloppy bun as Shinra went to get a cold cloth and bowl for her fever. When he returned, he said to me, "I apologize for my rudeness. I didn't even catch your name when you walked in. My name is Kishitani Shinra."

"Isoko Marigold. And it's alright; our introduction was a little more on the bizarre side."

He quietly laughed. "Yes, I suppose it was." Shinra placed the washcloth on the tiny patient's forehead. Behind him, Shizuo slid the door open a crack and poked his head in. The two of us stood. "Everything is alright," the  _doctor_ announced. "She's sleeping soundly now." We walked back out into the living room. Tom had already made himself at home and was playing a video game on the television. "Internal medicine isn't really my thing," Shinra admitted sheepishly as he, Shizuo and I gathered to talk. "But I believe she has an inflamed pharynx."

"What does that mean?" Shizuo questioned bluntly. "Is she teething?"

My hand slapped to my mouth to hide the sudden grin. Shinra laughed. "No, no, she's a little too old for that," he explained with infinite patience. "Unless you think she's an infant or a toddler." Shinra puffed his chest out and added smugly, "But I guess since your brain is basically like an infant's, it wouldn't be too far-fetched for you to run a teething fever yourself--"

Shizuo calmly lifted a hand and flicked the doctor square in the forehead.

Shinra dropped to the floor and held the spot where he had been injured with both hands. He rolled dramatically on the floor as he groaned. And at the same time Tom blew up something big on screen and pumped a fist in the air.

"Well," I sighed as I folded my arms, "not the best date I've been on, but not the worst."

The statement nearly dropped Shizuo as well. "W...what?" he sputtered. "This wasn't--it isn't--"

"Ha...ha..." Shinra gasped amidst his dying state. "Shizu-chan is...on a date..."

"Shut up," Shizuo hissed defensively as I lightly laughed. "It's not a date!" 

"Looks like a date to me," Tom confirmed from his spot on the couch. Shizuo's fists balled up as his face turned a color like the little girl's feverish state.

I patted his wiry arm and moved to leave. "But next time, remember that the optimal flowers to bring me are hydrangeas and gladiolas. You can buy them at the shop I work at."

"You name is Marigold...and you work at a flower shop?" Shinra pieced together as he propped himself up off the floor. "That's ironic. Hey, wait, where're you going?"

"Home," I answered. "Or to buy more groceries again. I haven't decided which, yet." I looked down at the torn sandal I had taken off by the door. "Maybe I'll buy a new pair of shoes so I won't be barefoot."

"Huh?" Shizuo sauntered over to stand beside me. I crouched down and picked it up with a finger to hold it up between the two of us. "Oh. Sorry."

"Nah, it's alright. They were pretty cheap, anyways."

"You might not want to leave the apartment, actually," Tom said, pausing the game to talk to me. "The police and a whole bunch of other people saw you with us. By now  _you_ may have been the one who pushed that kid down. That's how it goes with stories."

I pursed my lips and considered the options. Deportation or staying the night at a strange doctor's house?

"I see your point," I sighed faintly, skin returning to a normal temperature before it could really spike. Turning to Shinra, I bowed and said, "I am sorry for the intrusion. It was...unexpected."

He laughed and waved me off. "Don't worry about it! I'm sure Celty would love to meet you."

The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent playing video games and checking on the little bean sprout. When we got hungry, I offered to make a meal for the men--out of kindness of my heart, not the fact that I was playing into my gender role. Shinra said I was free to make anything I wanted, so I collected ingredients to make yakisoba. Shizuo ended up helping me, so as we were getting the meal ready I quietly said, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable about that date thing. It wasn't intended to be hurtful."

He grunted as he chopped up some cabbage before responding. "It's alright. I wasn't sure if you were even being serious about it, anyways."

Shinra cheered as he scored an achievement on the video game he and Tom were still playing. "Is it so hard to believe that a girl likes you?" I prompted carefully. His cutting slowed a bit before picking back up.

"It's not..." He stopped and sighed. "Look, the person I am makes it...hard for people to see me as something other than a raging monster. So it shouldn't be surprising for me to have a hard time believing that you would be somebody who looks at me that way."

The noise I made was something akin to a half-snort, half-chuckle. "Shizuo, you are  _definitely_ not a monster. Who the hell made you believe that you were?" I brandished my cutting knife at nobody in particular. "Point them out to me, and I'll cut open their eyeballs and squeeze lemon juice in the wounds." Again, it was said so casually Shizuo opened and closed his mouth as he struggled to come up with a response. "The physical and chemical makeup of one's body doesn't constitute them as a monster. Their actions do." 

"And destroying an entire block isn't something monstrous?" Shizuo asked with a hint of bitterness."

"We'll work on that."

 _We._ Him and me. Shizuo and Marigold. Crap. Was that the wrong thing to say?

"That...yeah."

Shizuo then shut up. I felt the worst kind of heat--the kind one go when they were embarrassed. It made the hair on the nape of my neck stick to my skin and burn the tips of my ears. He wasn't much better. The redness had consumed his entire face.

It didn't take long for the yakisoba to be finished, thankfully. Tom and Shinra scurried over to dish themselves up some, the latter proclaiming how good it was. Apparently Celty didn't cook all that much, because  _"she didn't really eat that often."_

I ate my meal in silence, only speaking when I was directly addressed. When my bowl was empty, I put it in the sink and went back to the guest room to check on the little patient. She was still asleep, but her washcloth had dried out some. I took it off and dabbed it in the basin full of cool water, wrung it out some, and dabbed a corner on her small lips to give them some moisture. Why did somebody so small and cute have such a major death wish? Maybe she was some small assassin in the making. Were her parents worried? Did she even  _have_ parents to worry about her?

It was only when I heard more voices that I stood and departed the room. After I slid the door shut, my gaze immediately settled on a slight girl with glasses and dark hair standing by the couch. Shinra was wrapping a blanket around her and talking at a thousand miles a minute. My sudden appearance drew her eyes over to me.

Every single hair on my body seemed to stand on end as I sensed a strange aura from the newcomer. She visibly took a step away from me, clutching the blanket around her more tightly. My natural defenses had thrown themselves up: heat waves radiated off me and warmed the entire room in a matter of moments.

Shinra fanned his face. "Why did it get so hot in here? No? Is it just me?" he panted. "Did the air conditioner break or something?"

"No," Shizuo stated simply as his eyes bore into me. I tried to pull everything in as inconspicuously as it had escaped. 

"Anri, this is Marigold. She's a  _special friend_ of Shizuo's," Shinra introduced. Anri shook herself free of the frozen state she was in and gave me a bow.

"Hello," she greeted meekly. For all the sirens she set off in my head, she seemed pretty...harmless.

"Hi," I responded, smiling and striding forward. "You look like you need a little food in your stomach. Want some yakisoba?"

-

Mom and dad would most likely not approve of the crowd I found myself associating with. I had couch surfed plenty of times, but never with two debt collectors, a back-door doctor, a wannabe child murderess with a fever, and an inhuman introverted girl.  _"Mari-chan,"_ I could hear my father saying to me in a gentle, chiding tone,  _"maybe you should take a step back and re-think the situation you're in right now."_

 _"Just punch your way out of it!"_ my mother's wrestler-voice called in the background. I chuckled to myself and rolled over on the pull-out bed I was resting on, thoughts drifting to other topics. Shizuo and Tom had taken up spots on the floor, and Anri was in Celty's old room.

Sleep wasn't coming easily, tonight. I checked my phone for the first time and sighed at what I saw. If it was already two-thirty in the morning and I felt as if I could get in a nice cardio work-out, I doubted I would be able to fall asleep anytime soon. Ah, well. I would just crash later on. That was how it usually went. 

I sat up, put my glasses on, and fluffed my hair before swinging my legs over to plant themselves on the floor. For a few moments, all I did was sit motionlessly in the dark as I decided what I would do. The moon was full and swollen, tonight, providing a silver pallor for me to see in. 

My legs straightened as I stood up, letting my feet carry me over to the kitchen. I opened the fridge as quietly as I could to snake an arm in and grab some yogurt. Next I pulled out a spoon from the utensil drawer and tip-toed over to the terrace, but not before grabbing the blanket from the couch to wrap myself in when I was outside. I had to gingerly step over Shizuo's lanky form to get to the door. 

When I was on the terrace I settled down on one of the lounge chairs and covered my lower body with the blanket. I held the spoon in my mouth while I popped the yogurt tab open. My toes curled as I bit down on juicy chunks of strawberry. A happy hum reverberated in my throat.

The moments I enjoyed by myself were priceless. I had learned to make them that way, seeing as I didn't exactly have best friends to enjoy them with. I supposed there just weren't enough people in the world to be friends with everybody. 

Was I a sadder person than I thought myself to be?

I turned my head and paused in eating my yogurt as the balcony door slid open. A slight figure slipped through, moonlight reflecting off their glasses. They had their eyes fixed on the celestial object orbiting our planet before they snapped to me.

Anri visibly jumped and covered her mouth with a hand to keep from yelping. I smiled and waved my spoon in the air. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," I apologized before I started eating again. "You can't sleep, either?"

"No," she confessed quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."

"What, intrude on me eating my yogurt? I think I can forgive you for the offense." I gestured to the patio chair beside me and tore off my blanket to give to her. "Here."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly--"

"Anri," I said evenly, leveling her gaze with my gold-and-orange eyes. "Believe me. I'm a warm body. I can manage."

Hesitantly, she reached out and took the covering. I smiled again and stretched my bare legs out. "So, what's your story?" I naturally asked as Anri sat down.

"M-my story?"

"Yeah. Everybody has one."

"I, uh, I don't have a story. Not one that you'd like to hear, anyways."

My smile was genuine. "Now wherever did you get that impression?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter isn't as boring as I think it is
> 
> Also, I kinda slacked off on editing again...

I stayed awake until the sun came up. It turned the sky gray, lavender, then finally pale pink and gold. It was a beautiful sight; the glass windows on the surrounding buildings reflected the colors, creating an endless array of wonder and awe. A part of me, as strange as it was,  _wished_ to be with those colors, blending and swirling on their own plane of existence. 

My hands found themselves gripping the edge of the balcony, feet standing on their tip-toes as I was drawn to the sunrise. I felt my body burning, but...not in anger. It was in longing. A longing to be the sunlight, to just  _touch..._

I blinked my eyes and returned to earth. My body cooled and I lessened the grip I had on the railing. I turned my attention to Anri, who was still asleep on the patio chair. Her glasses were askew and mouth wide open. It was a cute sight. What this girl had been through, what she  _was..._

Saika. She held an immortal blade that could control people telepathically once they've been slashed. That meant there really had been a reason why I got the vibe I did when we first saw each other. It wasn't overwhelmingly surprising; apparently weird attracted weird in Ikebukuro.

I briefly tapped my fingers on the railing before retracting myself from the sunrise and moving to pick up Anri. Aside from making a small noise, Anri didn't stir. I carried her from the patio to indoors. The apartment was silent, save for the air conditioner softly humming as it worked to keep everybody cool. I had to step over Shizuo again, who seemed to be lying in the same position as he was when I sneaked out to the patio. The poor guy. He would probably be super sore. I should have woken him up to ask if he wanted my spot on the couch, seeing as I didn't use it for more than a little while. 

Anri settled in nicely to the futon. I covered her up with the blanket and took her glasses off so she wouldn't roll over and break them. Then I quietly stepped back out into the main living area and decided what I would do next.

The result was a quick stop to the restroom and pilfering mouthwash to swish around inside bulging cheeks. I needed to get home, soon. My crash was looming, and if I wasn't careful I could sit down on a bench and fall asleep right then and there.

As I went to the kitchen to start up some breakfast--I learned from my mother to always cook when I wasn't sure what to do with myself--the door to Shinra's bedroom opened and the sleepy doctor shuffled out, donned in pajamas and sporting a head full of unkempt hair. "Good morning," I smiled. He yawned and gave me a sleepy wave, moving to take up a stool at the counter.

"Sleep well?" I followed up, already pouring Shinra a cup of coffee. He gratefully took it and added a few spoonfuls of sugar from a jar that was sitting on the countertop.

"Not bad. You?"

There was no reason for me to be dishonest. "I didn't sleep at all," I replied with an easy shrug.

"At all? Not even for a few hours?"

"No. My sleeping habits can get odd, especially on the weekends when I have no work schedule to abide by. I just sleep when I'm tired, but I never know when that may be."

"Interesting. Have you ever been diagnosed with insomnia?"

I shrugged. "No idea. It's never been a problem for me other than I can fall asleep in pretty awkward places, but...what can you do about it?" While I talked I pulled out a carton of eggs and some milk. "Actually," I reconsidered, "I'm sure you could do something about it, but I've never had the will to do so."

Shinra pondered what I said for a few moments before moving onto a different topic. "So, how do you know Shizuo?"

"We first bumped into each other at Russia Sushi. A while later we were actually introduced after he threw a vending machine that I was getting a drink out of. After that, he walked me home in the rain one day." I started to whisk together the eggs and milk in a bowl. "But besides today, that's all the interaction we've had with each other." 

"Huh. I would have thought you two knew each other longer from the way you act." Shinra waggled his brows and said in a loud whisper, "If you know what I mean."

My lips pressed together for a moment before I let the playful jab go. "Let's talk about something else, shall we?"

-

By the time the little girl awoke I had already finished making breakfast. Anri, who had been keeping an eye on her, alerted us when she called on Shinra to come check up on the patient. Though Shinra and I had been talking at a normal level as I prepared breakfast, Shizuo and Tom awoke during the whole period. It was as if they were hibernating until their accidental hostage finally came back to consciousness. As if on cue, they jerked awake from their spots on the floor to see if what Anri was saying was correct. I decided to check in after everybody was done poking their heads into the room. During the wait, I dished out breakfast and made some tea. It didn't matter whether or not they ate it; I just wanted them to know that it was available.

Shortly after Anri's announcement, the little one came out and plopped herself sleepily on the couch. Shinra crouched before her and started examining, making the occasional "hmm" sound as he worked. I watched from the counter as I quietly ate breakfast.

As Anri brought the little one a cup of tea, Shinra said, "Your color is looking better. Do you have any sort of pain? A sore throat or a stomach ache? You're fine?"

She gave a nod. "Here," Anri said to her, holding out the tray with the single tea cup on it.

"I'd take it if I were you," Shinra suggested brightly. "Marigold's tea is pretty good. Both she and you, Anri, have been a great help. I'm glad both of you stayed over." He turned his head and glared at Shizuo and Tom, who were both creeping in on him and the girl. "Stop being weird, you two! Shoo!"

As they backed away sulkily, Shinra focused his attention to the little minion again. "So, would you mind telling me your name?"

"Akane," she replied in a soft, lovely voice.

"Akane, huh? What's your last name?" She cast her eyes down and didn't answer. Shinra only continued to smile. "That's fine. Are you alright with telling me what happened yesterday?" Still no response. "Why did you want to kill that big dopey guy?"

Two dark eyes cast themselves at Shizuo. "Because he's a hitman," Akane said meekly. 

I paused for a moment, looking from face to face and watching each of their reactions. Shizuo seemed as though he couldn't decide between flipping a table and laughing his head off. "Somebody told me about him the other day. They said that Shizuo was going to kill both my father and grandfather. But since I couldn't go back home, I didn't know what else to do."

Shinra reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out the stun gun I had seen Akane use on Shizuo yesterday. "Then what about this?"

"It was given to me so I could use it to finish him off."

"Who gave it to you?"

"The same person who taught me all kinds of things when I ran away from home," Akane said evenly, taking another sip of tea after completing her sentence.

"So this person told you that someone name Shizuo was a hitman, and thy gave you this stun gun to kill him?" Shinra summarized, a semblance of laughter in his voice. It  _was_ pretty ridiculous, after all.

Wait. No. Shinra wasn't laughing in amusement.

He was laughing to try and hide his fear.

Akane nodded. "So what was this person's name?" Shinra continued despite the apparent reluctance in his voice.

"He said to call him...Izaya." Akane took another sip of her tea as Shinra made some sort of panicked noise. For a reason unbeknownst to me, he slowly turned to look at Shizuo with the similar, stricken expression Tom had on his face.

The "bartender," however, had an amused, relaxed smile on his lips and a loose posture. "Well, that's just a misunderstanding, Akane," he explained in a foreign, cheerful tone. "Izaya has me confused with someone else. I'm no hitman." He placed a hand over his chest for good effect.

I nearly snorted the eggs I was currently chewing in my mouth up my nostrils.

"Is that true?" Akane pressed hopefully.

"Yeah, of course!" he reassured. "Izaya is a friend of mine, but we had a little falling-out a while back, that's all." Then the guy winked for even  _more_ effect.

While Akane looked relieved, everybody else seemed to be in a state of complete, dumbstruck horror. "I'll go make up with him right now," Shizuo added as he turned to leave, hands comfortably placed in his pockets.

Tom sighed heavily and followed, calling for Shizuo to wait up. Not knowing what else to do, I scraped up the last of my meal in three hearty shovels, threw my satchel over my shoulder, and picked up two extra bowls I had set out for everyone. "Bye, Akane!" I said through a dishonorable mouth of food. "And thanks, Shinra! It was nice meeting you, Anri!"

"Uh, Marigold, I don't think you want to--" Shinra started, but the door had already closed behind me before I could hear him finish. I stepped into the elevator with the two men and wordlessly handed them their breakfast.

"Thanks," Tom muttered gratefully, picking up the chopsticks and beginning to eat. "And hey, Shizuo, good job holding it together. That was some act. You could probably be in the same line of work as your brother's if you keep it up."

Shizuo's face was everything but what it had been only moments ago. "Thanks, I appreciate it," he mumbled in a monotonous voice, deeming it incapable to tell whether or not he was being sarcastic. He, too, began to eat the bowl of food given to him. "And Tom, I want to ask a for a favor."

"What is it?"

"If I happen to get arrested for murder today, let the boss know that I was going to quit as of yesterday. Can you do that?" Shizuo took another calm bite of food.

Tom sighed again and gave a nod. "Yeah."

"Thanks for the breakfast, Marigold."

"Right, Mari-chan. Thanks for the breakfast."

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. "You're welcome." The action made me turn my gaze downwards and remember that I was missing a vital accessory. "Aw, heck."

"What?" Shizuo asked, following my fixed gaze. "Oh."

The three of us in the elevator examined my bare feet. I wiggled my toes for good measure. "I had probably better fix that."

"You might not want to be walking on the streets barefoot," Tom stated. "There are lots of things that could stab you."

"Ah, all be fine."

"You shouldn't take any chances. Shizuo, I'm headed back to the office." Tom pulled out some money and handed it to him. "Make sure Marigold gets a good pair of shoes."

"Wh..." I started out in English, then hurriedly switched back to Japanese. "No, Tom, it really is fine. I have enough money to get a pair myself."

"After all the trouble we put you through? Call it a gesture of apology," the debt collector smiled. Before I could get another word in, the elevator doors  _dinged_ and opened. Tom stepped past Shizuo and me and started to walk out. "The food is good, Marigold," he called over his shoulder, waving the chopsticks in the air as a substitute farewell. "And I doubt Shinra will miss the bowls."

My stomach dropped. "Crap," I muttered, looking at the dish in Shizuo's hands. "I forgot about that."

"He won't mind," Shizuo said as we stepped out as well. "I doubt he'll even notice they're gone."

We stopped at the glass window that lined the first floor of the building. Shizuo ate his food in silence as I lightly shifted from heel to heel, feet making a slight slapping noise against the cold tile. "So after you buy me shoes," I stated slowly, "You're going to murder somebody? Izaya?"

"Yeah."

I briefly hummed as I momentarily recollected the small encounter I had with the man who bore the same name. "Okay. Can I come with you?"

"Why do you want to come?" he asked a bit sharply. I let it slide off me.

"Curiosity, mostly. I also won't have anything to do once I get back to my apartment. Witnessing a murder will be much more interesting than staring at my ceiling."

 _Why_ was I saying what I was saying? I was a foreigner with only about a month's experience living in Ikebukuro; there was no reason for me to  _want_ to dive into chaos and adventure.

Then again, though, that was my story of my life. A thirst for adventure was part of the reason why I moved to Japan in the first place.

Eh, if I got deported, then I got deported. "You're not coming with me," Shizuo said flatly before taking a final bite of his food and setting the empty bowl on the windowsill.

I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose for good measure. "I can take care of myself, Heiwajima Shizuo."  _And I don't exactly want you becoming a murderer, either._ "Now come on and let's see if there are any stores open that sell shoes."

My arm casually linked with his, and I pulled Shizuo with an unusual amount of strength. He made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but gave up arguing and let me lead him. As soon as we were out the door I let my arm drop back down to my side and took in the bright morning day. People on their way to work or school milled about the streets, too wrapped up in their own little word to notice me or my bare feet.

I was stopped before I could make it five steps down the sidewalk. "You're going to cut your soles on something," Shizuo told me. One of my brows arched.

"Your point is?"

He grumbled something before moving to walk in front of me, crouching, and looping his arms out to the side. I sputtered out a laugh. "Come on," Shizuo snarled halfheartedly. "Don't make me wait all day."

"As you wish," I smiled, then jumped onto Shizuo's back. He hooked his arms underneath the crook of my legs and straightened. I whistled as I stared at everything around me, letting the new perspective sink in. "Wow. I think I can see my apartment from here. Hey, I think I can see my house back in the states!"

"Shut up." Shizuo jostled me. I careened dangerously to the left and nearly head-butted a businessman on his way to somewhere obviously important. He scowled at me and muttered something incoherent under his breath.

"Hey, don't make me take you out," I casually threatened.

Shizuo scoffed. "Yeah, right. You go ahead and do that."

"Well not now, obviously. There are innocents around."

We continued to mildly bicker and banter with one another until we found a convenience store that sold--surprise surprise--cheap sandals. Shizuo paid for them with the money Tom gave him, as well as some candy I wanted to munch on later.

Once I had something strapped onto my feet, we headed back out. Shizuo took on a new style of walking: hands in his pockets, upper body at a forward angle, legs propelling him at speeds I had a hard time keeping up with. More than once did I consider latching onto his waist like Akane did yesterday. But alas, I remained silent and tied my hair up with the bandana I was wearing.

We came to a building that produced a low growl in Shizuo's throat. I pursed the corners of my lips together as a small grimace formed on my face. He didn't see it, however, and pushed open the doors of the main entrance. We calmly walked over to the elevator doors, which promptly opened for us in a smooth glide. As we stepped in, I thought it was a good time to open my bag of candy. "Want some?" I asked Shizuo, holding some out for him.

"Nah. Candy rots your teeth, you know."

"Says the guy who smokes."

"Fair enough." He held out a large hand.

"What flavor do you like?"

"Green apple."

"Okay."

I fished one out of the bag and placed it in the palm of Shizuo's hand. He popped it in his mouth and chewed noisily on the candy. By the time the elevator doors opened he had already swallowed it. I had to watch as he did so; nobody should be able to eat candy that fast without choking on it.

But, as I had learned, Shizuo wasn't just anybody. 

Because not just anybody could press a doorbell for so long and with such force that his finger would start to bleed. I stood by and watched, steadily going through my sweets. A part of me wanted to inform him that either nobody was home or was refusing to answer...but it just didn't seem right.

After about ten minutes of waiting for Shizuo's finger to wear down to the bone and listening him yell and shout at a nonstop speed, I stepped in and placed a hand on his arm. "Nobody is here," I said evenly, "if you couldn't tell from the moving notice posted on the door. Come on. Let's get out of here before we get a noise complaint."

"No! I'm not--"

I blocked out Shizuo's rage ranting and looped my arm with his, locking it down with an iron fix. He didn't do or say anything as I led him away, and eventually simmered down to grumbling, "I'll kill Izaya," every ten seconds or so. Each time I replied with a calm, "I know you will."

As soon as we reached the bottom floor of the building, Shizuo crouched down for me to get on his back again. I raised an eyebrow. "I have shoes, now," I reminded patiently. 

He huffed. "I know. But you'll just slow me down if you walk."

"Wait, so you're not finished with this, yet?" I asked. "Where else could Izaya be?"

"I have an idea," Shizuo grumbled thunderously. With a sigh and a shrug of the shoulders, I went around and jumped onto his back, arms clasping in the front of his chest. They tightened as soon as he started walking again, propelling forward at speeds that would have most likely left me in the dust. 

My hair bounced up and down as I hitched a ride on Shizuo's back. I was enjoying myself, but fatigue was looming over me. If I didn't find a place to rest soon I was going to crash. If I pushed myself, I'd have about two, two and a half hours tops. If I succumbed, I would fall asleep in a piggy-back position. It wouldn't have been the first time I had done so, but it'd certainly be the most mortifying.

We came to another building soon enough. Shizuo effortlessly climbed up the stairs despite me weighing him down. Finally, when we reached what seemed to be the top floor, I hopped off and retied my hair to make sure it didn't look completely idiotic.

"Damn that bastard. I told him never to come back to Ikebukuro, and he set up shop here in the open!" Shizuo ranted as we stopped at a door with MAHOUTOU CO. LTD. on a simple plaque. He pressed an angry thumb down on the buzzer, but there was no answer. I watched his imaginary hackles raise as he tried two, three, six, twelve more times. All the while his snarling grew louder and louder until it was almost a continuous shout.

When the shout came to its peak, Shizuo slammed a hand down on the door handle, ready to tear it off its hinges. Instead of resisting his grip, however, the handle instantly opened with a faint  _click._

I felt my body temperature rise a few degrees. "In all of the movies I've ever seen," I stated as he slowly swung the entrance open and looked in, "an unlocked door is never a good sign."

If Shizuo heard me he didn't respond. Instead he automatically ducked down under the doorway as he stepped in. I rubbed my forehead and followed, dread rising with each second that passed. 

There were rows of bookshelves on either side of us, nondescript and plain. A television broadcast was playing, adding to the odd silence. I balled my hands into fists and took in a slow, steady breath. A single word flashed in my mind as Shizuo looked around the corner of a bookshelf and stopped.

_Deportation. Deportation. Deportation._

It was then I found out that I really  _wasn't_ okay with getting shipped out of Japan.

I looked around Shizuo's lanky figure and stifled a gasp. The television was not only airing an old re-run of a stupid show, but...but men lay strewn about the coffee table, couch, and floor.

One was even smashed into a  _wall._

I refused to believe that they were dead.

"What the hell is going on?" somebody demanded behind us. "You can't just come in here!"

Before I even had a chance to whirl around, Shizuo grabbed me by the waist and lifted me off my feet. He carried me almost rugby-style as he sprinted to the window, which he then threw open and stepped through. As I was being manhandled, I looked over my shoulder and saw the man who had caught us trespassing. "Assholes!" he shouted as he whipped out a pistol and cocked it.

Then we were soaring through the air. The world tilted and spun as Shizuo leaped from wall to wall of the narrow alleyway. Because of the disproportionate weight, however, on the fourth leap his footing slipped on the brick and we careened into the side of the building. I slammed head-first into it and continued to scrape against the wall as we fell. Because of how I was pinned, Shizuo couldn't adjust his angle until we crashed onto the ground and landed in an awkward heap. 

But we were out of sight, thankfully, and out of harm's way.

At least for now.

"Marigold," Shizuo breathed hastily as he untangled himself and propped me up. His own shirt and pants were scuffed from the fall, but he otherwise looked fine. I, on the other hand, was supposed to be far worse. My skin should have been open and bleeding from the skidding I did. Instead, however, the only thing that was wrong was my bandana had nearly slid off my head and my glasses had rubble on them. "Are you...?" His question faded as he took in my perfectly fine state.

I held up a thumb. "Yeah," I replied. "I'm really happy my glasses didn't get ruined."

Shizuo stood and pulled me up along with him. "Come on," he instructed. "That guy back there saw us. Or saw me, more precisely. The chances of them knowing who I am are greater than the chances of them knowing you. We need to split up."

"That man probably thought it was us, huh?"

"Yeah."

"And from the way he was carrying that gun, he's probably not somebody from an upstanding organization, I'm guessing."

"No."

"Okay."

After a moment of hesitation, I reached up and fixed Shizuo's crooked tie. He glanced down as a blush crept up his cheeks. "Be careful, Shizuo," I said. "I wouldn't want to have to come save your ass."

"I'll try my best," he stuttered. I gave him a smile, let my hands drop to the sides, and left. I wanted him to reach for me, to spin me back around and say that he needed me to stick with him, but...I continued on without so much as a calling farewell.

Going home and crashing on my futon sounded like the most epic thing in the world. It took me a while to notice, but my feet were dragging against the pavement and my eyes were half-lidded under my glasses. If I took a shortcut through the park it'd save me some time. That way, I could reach my apartment quicker and sleep sooner.

But, as it turned out, my good idea was actually quite horrible.

Kyouhei and another man in a dinky straw fedora were facing off thugs, Walker was standing on the roof of the park's public restroom pouring gasoline on the opposition, Toramaru bikers were honking in the street, a bunny and a blond woman with a lost-and-found sign were helping teenage girls flee the scene, and Anri was dueling with a woman in an orange-and-white jumpsuit.

Then there was a flash bomb. And fire.

What a freaking shit-storm.

I sighed and adjusted my glasses. The park really wasn't going to be a shorter route, after all.

My sandals slapped haphazardly between the ground and my own feet as I ran into the action. My presence added to the random chaos converging into one explosive peak. Right before Kyouhei was about to get whacked in the spine with a baseball bat, I stepped in and used my body as a shield. There was an ear-splitting _crack_ as the bat shattered on impact.

The attacker looked at his splintered weapon before screaming, "What the  _hell?"_

The sudden exclamation made Kyouhei spin around. He exclaimed my name when he saw me standing before him, brushing splinters from my shirt. I paid my friend no mind and instead lunged so I could wrap my arms around the thug's fat waist and lifted him off the ground. He shrieked and flailed as I shifted back onto my heels, because he knew what was coming next. My entire upper and lower body coiled as I sprung backwards, falling and gazing briefly at the bright blue sky. It was a dazzling blue today.

Then I slammed my opponent head-first into the ground.

When I climbed back up to my feet, I turned to see the damage I had done. There were a few missing teeth and a fair amount of blood. Enough to make me grimace.

"Whoa!" Erika gasped, slapping her hands against her cheeks as she, Walker, and Kyouhei gaped at my feat. "Mari-chan! You're a beast!"

"And a tired one," I said bluntly before I casually connected my fist with another attacker's nose. There was a  _crunch_ and he crumpled to the ground. "Oh, Kyouhei?"

"Yeah?" he grunted between pummeling somebody.

"Your face looks like shit."

It got a laugh out of him. I didn't even know  _why_ I was fighting; this was almost undoubtedly a brawl between gangs. Yet here I was, the foreigner who had just  _shattered a baseball bat on impact_ in the midst of it all.

But, as it was so blatantly obvious, I was fiercely loyal to those who I had the opportunity to call friends. So I put my long-stay visa on the line and swung punch after punch. Unfortunately, there was no way that nobody would notice the fact that I was unaffected by the occasional knife that slashed against my skin, or how fists kind of...broke...whenever they punched against the surface of my body.

As soon as some of the area around us had been cleared of enemies, I took my glasses off and cleaned them of the debris that had collected on the lenses. Meanwhile, Walker and Erika watched with incredulous awe and excitement as Anri continued to battle the motorcycle rider. Blonde hair had come loose from the helmet and now hung down by her shoulders. I knew I should have been as engaged as everybody else, but I just wanted to get home. Besides, the fight was dying down, and the man in the fedora had stopped Anri and the woman from attacking each other with two knives in each of his hands. There was still a bit of commotion, so if I slipped out then nobody would notice--

Then, suddenly, everything just...stopped. Heads turned and the crowd parted. I put my glasses back on to see what the cause of the silence was.

That had been a bad idea.

Shizuo Heiwajima strode through, effortlessly carrying a motorbike on one shoulder while the other hand was tucked into the pocket of his black slacks. I doubted he saw me, with the way his eyes were fixed on the center of the paused fight.

Kyouhei was the first one brave enough to greet him. "Shizuo," he said lightly, like there hadn't just been an all-out smash session mere moments ago. "What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same. I heard there were some assholes who took a girl hostage," Shizuo readily replied. "So, what went down?"

Kyouhei held up his hands as he explained. "Well, it turns out Walker and the others already rescued her. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Really? Huh. Happy to hear that. Hey, uh, you wouldn't happen to know whose bike this is?"

The blond woman hesitantly raised a gloved hand. She, the fedora guy, and Anri were still locked in the same position they had been mid-fight. "It's mine," she said.

Shizuo gave her a flat look from behind his sunglasses. "Oh, I see. My bad. I just thought that it might have belonged to the shitheads who took the girl." He began setting the bike down. "I was going to hurl it at somebody, but that probably wouldn't be cool anymore." His head tilted as he got a better look at the fedora man. "And who are you? What're you doing here?" A pause. "I see. So...it's a bloodbath. Or a lover's quarrel?"

"Ha ha, very funny," replied the person in question. "But no, you got the wrong idea."

Shizuo shrugged his shoulders. "Alright. But the bastard who took that girl hostage, who the hell is he?"

All heads in the park turned to a single figure lying on the ground. Unfortunately, it was right when he sat up, looking all sorts of dazed and confused. "Huh," Shizuo grunted, "so it was you?"

"Oh, just stay down," I mumbled under my breath. My words only reached my ears, however, and I watched as the man wiped his bloody nose with the back of his sleeve before getting back up on his feet. 

"Maybe," he spat in response. "What're you going to to about it?"

He pulled out a knife and came at Shizuo. "Get fucked!" he cried manically, aiming the weapon at Shizuo's chest. The "bartender," however, merely side-stepped and brought a sharp hand down on his assailant's arm. 

Above the shrieks of pain, my initial thought was:  _I didn't know arms could break that way._

Shizuo gripped the man's purple jacket and lifted him up off the ground. "Stop screaming, you piece of shit!" Then, singlehandedly, he chucked the gangster into the air, who eventually was caught by a chain link fence about twenty feet away.

Everybody then promptly scattered. Shizuo shouted a flurry of curse words at those who were fleeing in the opposite direction of him before simmering down and letting his posture slump a bit. He took a breath, shook his head, and muttered something to himself as he turned to walk away.

Only to be stopped again. The blond woman stood several feet from him, legs spread apart in a solid stance. "Huh? What do you--"

She lifted her right arm and sent a dagger springing from its compartment. It landed with a  _thunk_ into Shizuo's shoulder.

My breath caught in my throat. 

Before I could scorch anything, however, I saw the knife pop right back out of Shizuo and thud lifelessly on the ground. The woman, realizing what had just happened, began sprinting. 

Shizuo kicked the knife with a food. "Normally I'm not one to beat up women," he said before exploding. "BUT I'M GOING TO CRUSH YOUR HELMET BETWEEN MY FINGERS!"

Then the bike went flying and Shizuo was gone, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

I watched as the fedora dude--whose game I gathered was Rocchi--bid farewell to Kyouhei and his little gang. Afterwards, I walked up to them and put an arm around Erika. She grunted under the sudden weight, but beamed when she saw it was me. 

"So," Walker said as he regarded the sky, which had turned golden from the setting sun, "what was this epic battle about?"

"I'll tell you all about it when we grab something to eat," Kyouhei responded casually. Walker's face lit up. 

"Hey, I heard Russia Sushi closed early today, so they're not open."

"Wait, seriously?" Kyouhei looked genuinely broken up about the fact. "That sucks."

"Do you want to go to the Taiwanese restaurant?" Erika prompted.

"I guess so."

Walker looked over his shoulder. "Hey, are you coming too, Anri? To dinner?"

Erika was suddenly gone out from under me. Anri, who had come back to the illusion of normalcy, raised her eyebrows and said, "Huh? Yeah, I guess--" She cut off with a gasp as two hands clamped onto her boobs. Behind her, Erika grinned devilishly.

"Oh, Anri," she moaned as she squeezed them, "there are a million things I want to ask you! I have to know and  _I love it!"_ Erika continued to grope as Anri broke into a fit of blushing laughter. "That Japanese sword...where did you hide it, huh?" A hand moved down between her legs. "Are you really a Flame Haze? Or just a hot cosplayer? Or could you actually be a Muramasa Yoto clone with huge boobs?"

Kyouhei grabbed Erika's shoulder and yanked her away. "Or maybe you're just a horny dork who needs to stop," he proposed. Anri's laughter subsided and she groaned as she clasped onto her aching breasts. 

Erika composed herself and smiled at Anri. "Well, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to. Every girl has their secret."

"Exactly," Walker put in. "Even if you were a demonic queen plotting world domination, Anri, I'm sure we could still get along with you." He pointed a gun-finger at her for good effect.

By now we had all gathered in front of Anri. "What's wrong?" Kyouhei questioned as her dark eyes roved to the left side of the park. 

"Oh! I-I'm sorry...I was with Mikado, but now I don't see him anywhere." She looked back to us. "But dinner sounds nice. Except...I don't have any money, so--"

"I got you covered," I said with a tired smile. "Let's go get something to eat."

"Wait..." Walker said slowly as we walked away, "Marigold, how do you know Anri?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I updated, but here it is. A new chapter. More to come, I promise.

I fell asleep halfway through dinner. The battle with it was always a losing one. Before I knew it, my eyes had closed and I was resting my head on Kyouhei’s shoulder. At some point the gang took me home and tossed me into bed, because I didn’t wake up until the alarm on my phone went off the next morning.

Yawning, stretching, and discovering I was still fully clothed from yesterday, I rolled up and shambled to the shower to get ready for work. After that, everything appeared completely normal. Aside from a torn blouse, there wasn’t a trace of the excursion I had the previous evening.

Halfway through brushing my teeth, I got a text from Mr. Shintaro.

_Apologies, Isoko Marigold, but I am unsure if you are aware that today is a Japanese holiday. If so, then enjoy your day off. And if not, then enjoy your surprise day off!_

I grinned through a mouthful of foam and spit the toothpaste out of my mouth. The dress I was wearing immediately stripped and I threw myself back onto the futon, feeling the blankets tantalizingly slide against my bare skin. With a happy sigh, I let myself drift back off to sleep. If I was really up to the challenge, I could go for another twelve hours of slumber.

But, as I lay there in a half-dozing state, I found myself grumbling and turning. Adult thoughts kept coming to mind—and not the fun type. Thoughts of grocery shopping and paying bills and running errands. And since all of the produce I had purchased got decimated the other night, I needed to go out again to fill the empty refrigerator sitting in the kitchen.

With a loud, aggravated grumble, I threw the covers off and redressed. After brief consideration, I decided to leave my hair unbound and free. Without any headband to push the dark brown coils back, it came forward to frame my face. Once people looked past the intense orange-and-yellow colors of my irises, they’d see neatly sculpted brows, a Romanesque nose, full lips, prominent cheekbones, and a heart-shaped jawline. It’d be hard to label my skin as a simple “brown.” It was on the lighter side of the spectrum, but within the middle of _that_ spectrum. I stopped trying to figure out what exact color I was when I could never find the right color in a crayon box. As long as there was a foundation I could use that’d match my skin tone, I was good.

I put on the cheap pair of sandals I bought with Tom’s money. It was a shock they hadn’t unraveled or randomly melted off in the dispute yesterday.

Looking at the shoes made me think of Tom, which made me think of Shizuo, which made me think of how Shizuo got stabbed in the shoulder. I knew he took injuries better compared to some others, but a knife? And who knew what else he had landed himself in?

He was a big boy, though, and I didn’t drive myself insane with worry. Instead I rewrote the grocery list and made sure to remember the reusable bags so I wouldn’t have any problems like I did with the paper ones. Then I put on some mellow beats in my earbuds and walked to the little market three blocks away. Within thirty minutes I had bought everything and was already on my way back. There was a small semblance of eagerness in my chest; I’d get to make myself a nice meal, then relax while tending to my plants and watching some show on Netflix.

But, since Ikebukuro happened to be such a _small_ city, I was spotted by two debt collectors who wanted to chat. I managed to tug an earbud out right as Tom greeted me. “Marigold!” he said as he and Shizuo approached. “How are you doing?”

“Hey, Tom. Hey, Shizuo. I’m actually doing great. A _gaijin_ like me failed to realize that today was a holiday, but that means I get the day off because of it. And you?”

“Good. Heard you were in that brawl at the park yesterday. Didn’t you take a bat and—”

“You _what?”_ Shizuo interrupted, regarding me through blue-tinted sunglasses. His associate grimaced and rubbed the back of his head.

“Oh. Sorry. Didn’t know that _you_ didn’t know, Shizuo.”

I sighed and adjusted the groceries in my arms. “Yeah. It…was mostly by accident. I wasn’t looking for a fight. But Kyouhei was in trouble and Walker was lighting things on fire, so I thought they could use some help.” My eyebrows lifted. “Oh, by the way, Shizuo, how’s that knife wound?”

“It’s fine,” he grumbled, patting at the spot where the weapon penetrated him. “I told you to go _home,_ Marigold. You could have gotten hurt.”

I snorted ungraciously. “Believe me,” I assured bluntly, “I have tougher skin than you’d think. And I _was_ going home. I just got delayed by…hitting a few people.”

As Shizuo was deciding whether or not to be frustrated at me, Tom cleared his throat and said, “So, I see you got new groceries. And sandals.”

“I did indeed, Tom,” I smiled. “You guys want to come over and have dinner at my place later on this evening?” I might invite Kyouhei and his little gaggle over, too.”

“As great as that sounds, Shizuo and I were actually going over to Russia Sushi to grab lunch. And you know how much that food fills you up. You don’t eat until twenty-four hours later.”

I lit up. “Really? It’s open again? They weren’t last night.” Though, seeing as I passed out from fatigue at the other restaurant, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference to me.

“Apparently they are.” Tom pointed a finger at me. “Hey, why don’t we help you out with those groceries and you can come with us, instead? You probably deserve some reward, with the way you were drug around by Shizuo over here just the other day.”

I pursed my lips dubiously. “Are you sure? You paid for my sandals yesterday.”

Tom waved my wariness away. “Don’t worry about it! Come on, hand a bag over. Man, I can’t believe how much you’re carrying right now.”

I grinned and obliged. Shizuo wordlessly took two bags of his own. Together the three of us made our way back to my apartment. Tom and I made conversation the entire time, leaving Shizuo to grumble all to himself. I didn’t know exactly _why_ he was so concerned about me. I was…me. Nobody should worry when it came to my vulnerability.

I was indestructible.

Like, literally.

“Nice place you got,” Tom commented as we stepped into my flat. I had my parents to thank for that. I was just going to get one of the basic, small apartments, but they didn’t want me living a cramped lifestyle. But because I was a good fifteen minutes away from the nearest train station, the rent wasn’t as high. “You have a lot of…flowers.”

“Horticulture major,” I chimed as I set the groceries on my countertop. “Hence the reason why I work at a flower shop and…have all these.” I gestured to the wide variety of plant life dotted throughout the apartment.

“What’s this one?” Shizuo asked, pointing down to the succulent on my coffee table.

“Echeveria elegans,” I replied as I began putting away produce. “They’re native to certain areas in Central America, Mexico, and South America.”

“And you know the names to all these plants in here?” Tom inquired, touching the aloe vera plant on my kitchen counter.

“Pretty much.”

“That’s cool.”

There was a short silence before I talked again. “Tom,” I said as I placed items in the fridge, “did you ever get asked if you were a rapper? In this city.”

He barked a laugh. “Yeah. I still do. They think every black person is a rapper.”

“To be fair, Tom, you _do_ like to rap,” Shizuo said as he wandered back over to the kitchen area. “Or at least pretend that you’re good at it.”

“Hey!” Tom exclaimed, putting a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. No, _hurt!”_ He turned to face me and pointedly began speaking in English. “Marigold, did you know that Shizuo dyes his hair blonde?”

I tapped my chin and pretended to think. “Well, considering that blonde hair _isn’t_ exactly a natural hair color here, I kind of figured.”

Shizuo, not understanding what we were saying, rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone to look at it. “He likes you, you know,” Tom said conversationally. “He’s just shy. Question is, do you like him back?”

“What is this, grade school?” I chuckled. “Where people have their friends ask to see if somebody has a crush on them?” After putting the last of the groceries away, I said somewhat slowly, “But…yes. I suppose I do like him.”

Tom beamed. “Awesome. I’ll start giving him ideas for a date or something.”

“Let’s be done with English,” I smiled, moving back to Japanese. “It’s not that easy for me to speak, anymore.” Right then my phone screen lit up and started making that bubbling, ringing sound. I grabbed it and looked at the screen. “Oh, those two,” I sighed. “They should be in bed.” I glanced up at Tom and Shizuo. “Do you guys mind me getting this really quick? It’s my parents.”

“Sure,” they both replied. I accepted the FaceTime call and saw the awkwardly angled face of my grinning father.

“Hi, dad,” I automatically laughed.

 _“Mari-chan! Look! I got a new tablet! Am I in high definition?”_ For good effect, he brought the screen closer to his face, giving me a close-up of his mouth and nose.

“Oh, yes, very high definition,” I grinned. “Where’s Mom?”

_“She’s not feeling too well tonight, so she’s laying in bed and watching Real Housewives of Orange County.”_

“Uh oh. What’s she come down with?”

 _“Just a cold. Don’t worry.”_ As if he inherently knew what had happened, my father went on to ask, _“so, Little Flower, have you been keeping out of trouble?”_

I pushed my lips to the side, eyes flickering to where Tom and Shizuo stood. “Mostly,” I confessed. Never keeping secrets from my parents was a lesson I had learned long ago.

_“You’re not in a gang, are you?”_

“No, I’m not. But I did accidentally get involved in a turf war. Some of my friends are low-key gang members.”

He gave me one of his stern looks. _“I know you can take care of yourself, Marigold. Just be sure to remember not to accidentally punch too hard. Have you been keeping chill?”_

“The chillest,” I assured. Before my father could further discuss the topic we were on, I lifted my gaze and beckoned to Tom and Shizuo. “Dad, I want you to meet a couple of my friends. We were just going to go to lunch together before you called.”

The two men came around to the side of the counter I was at. I held back the phone screen so my dad could see them both. “This is Heiwajima Shizuo and Tanaka Tom. They’re debt collectors. Tom’s mom is from the Caribbean and Shizuo has super strength.”

I received bemused looks from Shizuo and Tom as my father threw his head back and laughed. _“You always make such interesting friends. Hello, Heiwajima Shizuo and Tanaka Tom. Has Marigold decided to keep watch over you two?”_

Tom nervously chuckled before saying, “Ah, yes, she has. She’s pretty good at doing that. Ikebukuro is fortunate to have her.”

 _“It is, isn’t it?”_ Dad covered his mouth as he widely yawned. We all yawned in return. _“Well, Mari-chan, the real reason why I’ve called is to ask if I could listen to the saxophone piece you said you’ve been working on. We didn’t pay big bucks to have your sax shipped all the way over to Japan for us to never hear it again.”_

“I feel like you’re being sneaky,” I said, narrowing my eyes a fraction. “You want to hear it before Mom does, don’t you?”

Dad snickered impishly. _“She got to watch the newest episode of Cutthroat Kitchen without me and spoiled the ending. It’s just payback.”_

“And if I say no?”

_“Then I’ll accept the decline like a gentleman. But you’re not going to say no, are you?”_

I laughed and stood, tapping my phone to flip the camera around. “No, I’m not. Here, Shizuo, hold the phone for me so I can play.”

“Uh huh.” He took it and trailed behind me as I went to the corner of the room where my saxophone case rested. I crouched down to get the instrument out, feeling its familiar weight as I slung the strap over my shoulder.

“I didn’t know you played the saxophone,” Tom said as he started to absently play with the aloe plant on my counter.

“It never came up,” I shrugged. “Alright, Dad, are you ready?”

_“Yes!”_

I wetted my lips and pressed them to the mouthpiece. Bare feet tapped against the wooden floor and hips began to sway as I produced music from my saxophone. It was just a jazzy that I wanted to combine with some electronic beats when I had the chance, but made me happy to play all the same. When I finished Tom and my dad clapped for me while Shizuo smiled.

 _“That was superb, Little Flower,”_ Dad beamed. _“Thank you for sharing it with me.”_

I gave him a small bow. “You’re welcome.”

 _“Well,”_ he breathed, _“I suppose I had better let you go so you can get something to eat with the gentlemen. They_ are _gentlemen, right?”_

“Yes they are,” I assured, winking at Tom and Shizuo. “I love you, Dad.”

_“Love you too. It was a pleasure meeting you, Heiwajima and Tanaka.”_

The men both expressed their mutual pleasure from meeting my father as well. I took the phone from Shizuo, waved goodbye to my father, and ended the call.

“He seems like a nice man,” Tom commented as I put my saxophone away.

“He is,” I agreed as I grabbed my purse. “Now let’s go eat.”

-

I was the last one to enter Russia Sushi. Tom was talking with Shizuo about something, making both completely oblivious to the platinum blonde woman staring at Heiwajima with a mixed expression of revulsion, shock, and fear. Because of her intense concentration, she failed to notice me staring back at her with slightly widened eyes. Even if I didn’t know her face, I knew her hair. It was the same I had seen billowing behind her as she fled the park.

Right after she had assaulted Shizuo.

My eyes snapped in front of me as a hearty voice exclaimed, “Shizuo! And Mr. Tom! And Marigold! Welcome, welcome!”

I gave a small wave to Simon as the three of us took up seats at the counter. I silently washed my hands with a warm towel as I listened to what Tom and Shizuo were saying. “By the way, did you ever thank Kishitani for helping you out yesterday?”

“Uh, no, not yet.”

“I know you guys go way back or whatever, but you should thank him. He deserves a call, at least.”

Shizuo grunted. “I know, I know. I’ll call him now.” He pulled out his phone from his pants pocket and pressed a single button. I hid my smile by looking away for a moment. _Shizuo had Shinra on speed dial._

The phone call was short-lived. Shinra wanted to speak tomorrow, but even from my distance I heard the way he sounded. Like he was close to tears or something.

“Don’t look now,” Tom suddenly said, dropping his voice to just above a whisper, “but that girl over there…she’s really giving us the eye.”

Shizuo disregarded his boss’ instructions and looked over. “Who, the blonde? Huh. Must be new. Or maybe they’ve never had her out front, before.”

Tom leaned forward on the counter and asked Dennis, “How long has that girl been working here? Is she Russian, too?”

“Yeah, she’s Russian,” Dennis absently replied as he prepared our meals. “She can hardly bring you hand towels, so think of her as a little Russian knick-knack.”

“Huh.” An idea had formed in Tom’s head. “Hey, if I want to tell her she’s foxy in Russian, what do I say?”

Dennis smirked and glanced up from his task. He said something to Tom in his native language. The debt collector nodded sagely and brokenly repeated it. “Bee, achera bartend nen, eh? Thanks!” He leaned over to look past Shizuo and me and called out to the girl, “Hey!” Tom got her attention by holding up a hand. “Bee, achera bartend nen!”

Her oddly colored eyes widened slightly in confusion. She ignored Tom and flatly began speaking to Dennis. The chef, in turn, repeated what Tom had originally intended on saying. The conversation went back and forth a few times, and all the while Tom’s shoulders slumped downwards. He shifted and whispered to us, “Did I screw up the pronunciation that bad?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy,” Shizuo replied nonchalantly.

“I was raised by Japanese parents, not Russian,” I said apologetically. That made Shizuo snort in amusement.

Tom sighed and scratched his nose. “Talk about putting my foot in my mouth.” He glanced over at the Russian again after a few moments. “Ah, crap, I think I pissed her off.”

“It’s probably because of your lame pick-up line.”

“Seconded,” I echoed, but I felt as though she looked like that all the time. Call it a hunch.

As Tanka continued to feel sorry for himself, my own gold-and-orange eyes slid over to meet her lilac ones. I blinked slowly a couple of times, not breaking eye contact. It _was_ her.

She stiffened a fraction, sensing my focused curiosity turn into something sharper. I could discern that she _was_ human, but there was something…deadly…about her. Something dangerous. It grated against my judgement like nails on chalk.

Gah. This never happened in Pennsylvania.

“Hey, how’s business?” Dennis suddenly asked Tom. “Are you slammed? Think you could use an extra hand?”

“Yeah, we got deadbeats coming out of the woodworks,” Tom drawled in response. “It’s getting a bit difficult for Shizuo and me to handle, if you wanna know the truth.”

“Then how about using Russia Sushi’s employee over there?”

Three more pair of eyes turned to the same person I was concentrated on. She broke her gaze with me and looked to everybody else. Nobody saw the hard-set line on my lips.

She had tried to kill Shizuo. If I was ever around when she tried it again, I was going to snap her neck and burn her eyes out of those sockets with my own two fingers.

The violent thought nearly made me jump. My fists clenched together and I looked down at the wooden countertop. The threats I made were always casual enough out loud that nobody ever took them seriously, but deep down…I dreaded the fact that I meant every single word.

_You like flowers and saxophones and music and making food. You like summer and shorts and sleeping and smiling. You don’t like maiming or hurting or murdering or fighting._

_Still. You’re capable of doing those._

_It doesn’t make me a monster, though. Anybody is capable._

_But you…oh, you’re_ especially _capable. All these people in the room right now? You could tear them limb from limb without a scratch. There would be nothing they could—_

“Here you go,” Dennis interrupted, putting platefuls of sushi in front of the three of us. I had missed the conversation that ensued when I was wrapped up in my own thoughts, but now I realized that Tom was actually _discussing_ with the sushi chef just what she would be doing with them.

Heat rose in my system with each pump of blood. _Not now, not now, just…not now,_ I silently begged, but there was little I could do to stop it until I naturally calmed down.

“Whoa, did somebody turn the AC off?” Dennis questioned to nobody in particular. I took a bite of my sushi and vigorously chewed it, trying to get my mind off the fact that if I heated up too much I could scorch my clothes—or worse.

“It’s probably just the heat from outside or something,” Shizuo muttered as he ate his own food. “I’m sure it’ll pass.”

Did he know? He had seen rain turn into steam with it hit my skin, and he was looking right at me when my body temperature reacted to Anri’s sudden arrival. He _had_ to know something was up with me. How could he not?

I ate the rest of my sushi in silence, only mildly speaking when I was spoken to. The temperature did return to normal, eventually, but my mind wasn’t put at ease. I usually didn’t have bad days, bad thoughts, but they came so suddenly and primevally that putting them back in the bottle was difficult once they were out.

The conversation Dennis, Shizuo, and Tom were having paused as I stood and bowed to them. “Thank you for the meal, Tanaka Tom,” I said as calmly as I could manage.

“Going already, Marigold? What’s got you in such a hurry?”

“The sushi is fresh, I swear,” Dennis said honestly.

I offered a reassuring smile that, unfortunately, didn’t meet my eyes. “No, no, I just…” My mind short-circuited. “Goodbye.”

With that I turned and swiftly made my way out the door. Shoving a hand in my purse, I pulled out my phone and earbuds. I jammed them in and turned the volume up, blocking out the sounds of the city and the sounds of my own thoughts.

But thoughts that came from the ancestral bloodline I carried were louder than music.

**_You are Violence._ **

**_You were born to Burn your enemies._ **

**_You were made to be Indestructible._ **

Halfway back to my apartment my senses told me that I was being followed. It was yet another reminder that I wasn’t normal. That I wasn’t entirely human.

I veered into a sudden alleyway, pushing my glasses up as I felt my core body heat rise substantially. It required me to take my sandals off so they wouldn’t melt. Footwear was always the first thing to go. My mom bought me at least fifteen new pairs of shoes each year when I was younger and had a harder time controlling my anger.

As soon as I pulled my earbuds out I heard voices talking. “…against Shizuo. Just grab her quick and throw her in the van; we don’t want to alert anybody.”

I stored my phone and earbuds back into the purse and looked over my shoulder. Five guys in ski masks were approaching me, postures making their intentions obvious. One had a gray pillow sack in his hands, and another held a folded cloth. Behind them a van pulled up and backed into the alley.

“What’s this all about?” I softly questioned as I removed my glasses and faced them. The spectacles were placed in the purse, which was then set down on the asphalt. The world became out-of-focus, but I wasn’t blind enough that I was completely helpless.

“Don’t you worry about that, beautiful,” the one with the pillow sack smiled. A frown formed on his lips when his eyes went to my bare feet. “Why did you take off your shoes?”

His question was never answered. In one swift motion, I picked up the nearest guy next to me and threw him into the wall. “What the hell?” somebody shouted. A hand tried to grab my bare arm, but there was a scream as his flesh burned upon contact. I connected a fist with his side and heard a rib _crunch._ He dropped like a rock.

“Who is this bitch?” the one with the cloth cried hysterically.

“Just get her with the chloroform!” commanded the one with the pillow sack. They and the extra man charged at me simultaneously. I felt my face contort into a snarl and grabbed the extra by the collar of his shirt. I then swung him around so he collided into the other two. As soon as they were incapacitated, I slammed a foot into one of their elbows, feeling bone break under the force. There was an agonizing shriek before the recipient passed out from pain.

“R-run!” one of the two that were still able to move yelled. They scrambled to their feet and booked it back to the already departing van that waited on the other end of the alleyway.

It took me a few moments to realize just what I had done. I had tried to defend myself, and in doing so almost lost control.

The pavement under me had melted into bubbling pools, and my dress would catch fire at any moment. I quickly began fanning it, muttering, _“shit shit shit”_ under my breath as I tried to step out of the sticky puddle beneath my bare feet.

As I bounced on the balls of my tar-covered feet while bringing my dress nearly up to my navel, somebody called my name in a panic. “Marigold!”

I spun around and dropped my dress. Tom, Shizuo, and the blonde were booking it down the alleyway to me. “What the hell happened?” Tom exclaimed as he saw the few unconscious and broken bodies surrounding me.

“I was attacked,” I replied more shakily than I would have liked.

“It looks to have been an unsuccessful one,” the blonde replied with a thick Russian accent. Her pale eyes went down to the melted puddle a few feet away from my stained feet.

“Why did they attack you?” Shizuo asked worriedly as he neared me. I took an involuntary step back so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the heat that radiated from my system.

“I don’t know. They mentioned something about you, but I’m not sure what it was about,” I replied.

Tom kneeled next to an unconscious culprit. “Is…is his elbow _shattered?”_

“Yeah,” I said to him.

“But…but how—”

“Your dress is on fire,” the Russian said plainly, pointing a finger to my waist. I looked down and groaned.

“Mother fucker!” I hissed as I furiously began patting my stomach area to extinguish the flames. The three all stared as I managed to put the sudden fire out after several seconds. I grimaced as I looked down at the burnt hole in my clothing, revealing an unmarked abdomen with an innie bellybutton. “Aw, man,” I whined in English. “I really liked this dress.”

“It was a nice dress,” said the Russian in the same language. Shizuo bent down and picked up my sandals.

“Here,” he said, trying to hand them to me.

“Hold on,” I said back in Japanese, “I’m still too hot. I might burn you if you get too close.”

One of the men on the ground moaned and stirred. “Let’s get out of here,” Tom advised seriously. “I’ve had my fill of running for the next couple of weeks.” He grabbed my purse and began to backtrack. “You can explain your…spontaneous combustion…later.”

“Marigold,” Shizuo panted as he wiped his brow, “you’re a furnace.”

“I know, I know,” I sighed. “But you had better watch your back. It seems like you got people who are trying to capture those close to you.”

Then I realized that _I_ was somebody that they considered close to Heiwajima. “Anyways,” I went on, “I’m guessing that they wanted to use me as bait.”

“Not good,” Shizuo said.

“No. It’s not.” I covered my stomach as best I could with my hands. I felt myself cooling down already. “I can probably take my shoes back, now. Thanks for carrying them.”

“No problem.”

“Take your purse, too,” said Tom. “I feel weird carrying it around.”

“Your masculinity should not be threatened by carrying around a bag with flowers on it, Tanaka Tom,” the Russian said monotonously. I chuckled and took my satchel, grabbing the glasses from within and putting them back on.

“I’m Isoko Marigold,” I said to her. “Your name is?”

“Vorona.”

“Nice to meet you, Vorona.” Her eyes slid over to me suspiciously. The corner of my lip curled upward. We’d be watching each other, but for now there was nothing else that could be done.

The four of us came to a crosswalk. I jerked my thumb to the right. “Alright, everybody. I’d better get home so I can change. You all have work to do, anyways. Maybe if you come over for dinner in a couple of days I’ll tell you my story.”

“I’d ask you if you’ll be alright, but now I know that you will,” Tom said dryly. I smiled.

“That’s what I’ve been telling everyone from the beginning.” After a pause, I fished around in my purse for a small notepad and a pen. “Here’s my number,” I said as I wrote. “In case any of you are in need of assistance.” I tore the paper out and handed it to Shizuo.

“Thanks.” He spoke with his usual nonchalant tone, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks. “See you around, Isoko.”

“See you around.”


	6. Chapter 6

That night, I dreamed I was on fire.

It engulfed my legs, stomach, arms, shoulders, face. There was no part of me that wasn’t consumed by flames. Then I realized that I _was_ the fire. It hurt to look down at myself, hurt to see the brightness of my being, just **hurt.**

And yet…

I was not afraid. This was how I could be, this was how I _should_ be. A furnace, an inferno, a beacon that was as bright as the sun itself. All I had to do was reach out and—

My eyes opened. Immediately I held up my hand, only to see the brown color of my bare skin and the lights of the city seeping in from my window and into the dark room.

With a sigh I propped myself upright and ran my flameless fingers through unruly hair. The dream that I had usually occurred once or twice a month. But I knew when to cut it off before things…got out of hand. If I stayed asleep any longer and reached out to someplace beyond the realm of the natural, I’d set everything on fire. I did it, once, when I hit puberty and began having the dreams. My parents awoke to the smell of fire and raced to my room. They found my bed completely ablaze with me in the center, still blissfully asleep. They had no way to wake me, so my dad raced down to the kitchen, grabbed the fire extinguisher, and put the flames out while bringing me from my sleep at the same time. I could still remember the sound of my mother’s cries as she burned her hands on my skin as I was dragged from my bed.

The terrible thing was, I didn’t even remember what happened when I grasped the power offered to me.

I checked my phone to see what time it was. _05:32._

I’d have two more hours before my alarm went off. It was a good thing I had no problem falling back asleep immediately. I loved that about myself.

-

The rest of the week _actually_ went on as normal. I worked during the day and went home when evening came. I had Kyouhei, Erika, Walker, and Saburo over for dinner on Tuesday, binge-watched an anime the two nerds recommended to me on Wednesday, and then tended to my plants and played some saxophone Thursday. During those three days I “casually” texted Shizuo. Friday evening, I sat down and began planning how much I’d have to save if I was to take a trip to Kyoto. I wanted to visit the place where my grandparents came from. And, if the timing was right, my parents might be able to fly over and see me.

My phone began ringing, interrupting the Bluetooth that it was playing music through. I looked down at it and saw that Erika was calling me. Maybe she was going to ask me to meet up with her and the rest for some drinks. I wouldn’t mind that. I was looking for some time on the town, even if it was a textbook Japanese rainy day.

“Hey, girl,” I said after I answered. “What’s up?”

_“Marigold,”_ Erika breathed shakily. _“I-It’s Kyouhei. He’s been hit.”_

A pause. “What?”

_“There was a hit-and-run. He’s in the hospital.”_

“What the fuck?” I breathed as I scrambled to my feet. “Is he alright?”

_“He’s in a coma right now. Anri and I are on our way to the hospital. The rest will probably meet us there.”_

I was already getting on my shoes. “I’m headed over.”

_“Okay.”_

My thumb hit the _end call_ button. I stood there for a few seconds, completely numb. Kyouhei was in the hospital. Kyouhei Kadota, my friend. Dota-chin, a person that all of Ikebukuro knew. He was in a coma. Comas were bad.

I gathered my purse and umbrella and hurriedly left. The hospital was thirty minutes away if I walked. But if I _ran…_

The umbrella became useless as I broke into a jog. Rain pelted against my hot skin, against my glasses. There were no mellow beats in my ears, just the thunder of blood pumping through my system. There were no absent-minded thoughts in my head, just the single reminder that Kyouhei could die.

Kyouhei could die.

I made it to the hospital in about fifteen minutes, soaking wet and completely undeterred. I raced up to the waiting room on the floor he was on, leaving puddles of water behind me as I walked. When I reached the sitting area, I saw that there were already a fair number of people there. “Marigold!” Erika exclaimed, standing up from the chair she was curled up in. Anri was seated next to her and stood.

She didn’t care that I was covered from head to toe in rainwater. Erika threw her arms around me and clung as tightly as she could. I hugged her back, feeling how she shook and shivered. When we finally pulled apart, I grabbed Anri and embraced her as well. She looked like she needed a hug. Saika was probably screaming at her because the blade didn’t know what to do, but in that moment neither of us cared.

“Have I missed anything?” I asked Erika.

“Dotachin is still in surgery. We…don’t know how it will go.” Erika looked down at me and pursed her lips. “Ah…Mari-chan…you’re steaming.”

I waved her off. “I’m just drying. I’ll stop steaming in a little bit.”

“You… _are_ really warm,” Erika said as the three of us took a seat.

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I might turn this room into a sauna for the next few minutes.” The point was further made when I had to take off my glasses because they were steaming up.

Because Anri and Erika both knew I was…different, they merely accepted the fact. “Did you run here?” Anri said to me.

I nodded. “Yes, I did. It was faster than walking or calling a cab.”

After that explanation, we fell into silence. I sat rigidly for the next five hours, lending shoulders to Anri and Erika as they drifted in and out of sleep. When they were awake, I took it upon myself to at least get a few winks in. Mr. Shintaro ran the flower shop on Saturdays, and unless he was extremely busy then I wouldn’t be called into work. That was a minor relief. Meanwhile, Kyouhei was headed back in for a second operation.

I texted Shizuo a few times about everything. He and Kyouhei were friends as well, and I wanted to make sure that he knew and I’d be here if he wanted to come and visit. But he never responded. It wasn’t until late the next morning—after I had read every magazine available in the waiting room—did we receive word that he had been arrested.

Bad stuff was happening, and I felt myself being dragged in with each passing hour.

“Erika,” I said as my friend finally stirred from her restless slumber, “Where did Walker and Saburo go? Did I miss them coming to visit when I was asleep?”

“No,” she said with a slight grimace, “they’re on the hunt.”

“Wait, what?”

“Do you think that they’d just sit here and let whoever hit Dotachin run free?”

My head bowed. “They’re going after them, then.”

“Yeah.”

I rubbed my face tiredly and hunched over. “They’re going to get themselves killed,” I sighed. “Or kill somebody. Or both.”

“And you, Mari-chan? What would you do if you found whoever hit Kadota?” Erika was looking at me with that eerie calm she always seemed to bring out just at the right moment.

Gazing back at her, I responded with the same kind of evenness. “I would disembowel them and burn their faces off with my bare hands.”

Anri’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth to hide the shock. Erika was undeterred, however, and faintly smiled. “You know, Mari-chan, there are a lot of powerful things in Ikebukuro. You got the Slashers, the Dollars, Izaya Orihara, Shizuo Heiwajima, the Black Rider…but want to know what I think?” Her voice dropped a bit. “I think if you put your mind to it, _you_ could probably be the most powerful thing.”

It took a while for me to even open my mouth to protest, but Erika shushed me with her lingering smile before I could get a word in. “Don’t think we didn’t notice at the park, that day. The bat that hit you…it shattered into a million pieces. And you didn’t even flinch, let alone cut or bruise. It was like that for the rest of the fight, too. I’m guessing that you’re about as strong as Shizuo, aren’t you? Except nothing hurts you. The heat you give off probably has something to do with it as well.”

At some point I fluidly stood. “You’re right,” I answered lowly. “And if you have more questions, I’ll happily answer them _after_ Kyouhei gets out of surgery. Until then, I’m going to put my so-called abilities to use and make sure those two dickweeds don’t die while in their avenging spree. Erika, call me when Kyouhei wakes up.” I refused to use the word _if._

“I will.”

I bowed to Anri and Erika, then turned on my heels to depart. “Be careful out there, Marigold,” Erika called in her sing-song voice.

_I don’t need to be careful._

-

People often underestimated me. It was okay—I gave the notion that I was easy-going, laid-back, and non-confrontational. And all of that was true.

Except when my friends were being idiots.

The rain was still coming down hard when I picked up Walker’s trail. His was closer than Saburo’s, so I decided to go after him first. I realized that I had forgotten my umbrella back at the hospital, so I put the hood of my jacket up now that I was at a brisk walk. That didn’t do much other than contain my wet hair. But it was alright; fire trickled through my veins, through my soul.

I wouldn’t feel the cold for a long while yet.

The smell of kerosene reassured me that Walker was nearby. He’d light himself on fire if he’d be pressured enough into the situation. I was on edge the whole time I caught up to him, fearing that I’d see an explosion in the night sky before I could get there. Even though I was the only one stalking the street, I couldn’t help but get that unnerving feeling that somebody was watching me. It made my pace quicken and teeth grit together.

_Finally,_ after searching dark alleys and dimly-lit parking lots, I saw the light brown hair of the pyrotechnic. He was walking casually, but I knew he could feel eyes on him too. Both mine and the other’s, in this instance. “Yumasaki!” I called in a rather loud whisper. Walker spun around and grinned.

“Isoko! What brings you to these parts?”

“Don’t play stupid with me,” I halfheartedly growled as I closed the gap between us. I tore my hood off and let out some of the steam that was building. Walker watched as the vapors rose and disappeared into the air. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

“Have you come to join in on the crusade?”

“No! I’m coming to make sure you don’t get killed! I’d have gone after Saburo, but he made it farther out with his van.” I folded my arms and looked at Walker over the rim of my glasses. “I don’t suppose I can convince you to come back with me to somewhere safer, can I?”

“Nope.” He was still smiling. What a little bastard.

I tossed my hands in the air. “Fine. But I’m not letting you go alone. I’m worried about Kyouhei enough as it is; I don’t need to be worrying about you, either.” We started to walk.

“And Saburo? What about him?”

“Of course I’m worried about that shit. But he has the van, so at least he could drive away if he were in trouble. _You,_ on the other hand—”

Walker stopped me from speaking by putting a hand on my arm. “We’re being followed,” he whispered.

I redirected my attention and felt another presence closely behind us. “It’d probably be best if we ran, wouldn’t it?”

“Trying to outrun them probably won’t get us anywhere. Besides, what if it’s the same guy who tried taking out Kyouhei? Or at least knew the person who did it?”

I darted my gaze to a small street that led to a car lot. It had two floors, the top being illuminated. “Then let’s get somewhere we can see, at least.”

We broke into a run and took a sharp left. A third pair of footsteps joined in with the sounds of our feet making noises against the pavement. I heard something swishing around in Walker’s backpack.

As soon as we were on the top floor of the lot we squared ourselves and faced whoever was coming. Something…heavy was being drug across the grates. My fists clenched when I saw a shadowy figure approaching. When he came into the flickering fluorescent lights, I noted that he wore sunglasses despite the late hour. A nasty scar encompassed nearly half his face.

And the heavy thing being drug? A sledgehammer.

“You goddam otaku bastard,” the creeper sneered. “It’s been a long freaking time, huh?”

“Is that you, Mr. Izumii?” Walker asked as though it were a normal conversation. “You look a little different.”

This Izumii guy dryly chuckled and removed his sunglasses. “You gotta be shitting me. The bastard who burned my face is still calling me “mister” then?” He put the shades back on. “Oh, I’ve got a serious boner right now. This is going to be great. Not to mention you’ve got a hot piece of ass standing next to you.” He grinned crookedly at me. “If I didn’t have to kill you, I’d love to go out for drinks sometime.”

“Fuck off,” I barked.

“Oh, I definitely will after this.” He hefted his sledgehammer over one shoulder.

“Uh, before we go at it,” Walker said, “there’s just one thing I’d like to ask you.”

“What?” Izumii grunted.

“Did you run over Kyouhei last night?”

“Huh? Oh, that’s _right._ That sonofabitch traitor got mowed over, didn’t he?” In one brutal motion, Izumii swung his sledgehammer at Walker. “You should have stayed at the hospital with him!”

I pushed Walker out of the way and took the hit of the weapon. I didn’t budge as it bounced off me. Unfortunately, the handle got caught up under my feet and made me trip. That gave Izumii enough time grab the spare sledgehammer on his back and continue going after Walker. “Answer me this, bitch: should I smash in your friend’s head over here after I’m done with you? Or should I go ahead and finish off that comatose prick in the hospital?”

Izumii screamed as I punched him in the ribs. It gave Walker time to grab a canister and press down on the top. Flames erupted from it, making our attacker scream even more and scramble backwards. “What the hell?” he exclaimed as he used his weapon to prop himself up. I had definitely hurt him, with the way he was holding his side. “Do you got the sexy black version of Shizuo Heiwajima? And why do you always have that kind of shit up your sleeve?”

Walker stood and lightly said, “Don’t you wish people were color-coded? Like they are in manga? If it was like that, I’d be wearing red, because fire is sort of my thing.” He tilted his head to me. “And my friend over here is perfectly _original;_ I’ll ask you to not compare her to anyone else ever again.” Walker then chuckled to himself. “You know, now that I think about it, you couldn’t have been the one to hit Kyouhei. Because if it had been you, you would have made sure he was dead.”

Izumii was…proud?...enough to respond. “You’re damn right. And I would have taken his corpse to the mountains so nobody would ever find him.”

“Yeah, you’re right, my bad,” Walker apologized. I gave him a sidelong look. “Sorry for suspecting you. But if you’re serious about making a visit to see Kyouhei…” He craned his arm back and fished around in his backpack. A second later he pulled out a bottle with a piece of cloth stuffed in the top. “Mr. Molotov’s got something else planned for you.”

That only spurred Izumii on. He loudly laughed. “Bring it on, dickhead! You already got me once—” he brandished the sledgehammer in front of him— “it won’t happen again.”

“Aw,” Walker groaned, “it would have been perfect if you said something like, ‘First I’m going to destroy your dreams, and then you!’”

Izumii’s war cry was cut off by a rather jaunty ring. He paused, held up a finger signaling us to wait, and answered it. “Hello,” he answered seriously, “I was just about to call you. Yes. Yes sir. I understand. I’m on my way.”

As soon as the phone snapped shut Izumii was back to yelling. “You lucked out, dickwad! I’m gonna let you live another day or two! Both you, and your bitch friend!”

“Don’t forget Kadota,” I added.

Izumii snarled at me before stalking back into the shadows. While I watched him leave, Walker went over and picked up the sledgehammer I had been hit with. “You should have been severely injured by this, Mari-chan,” he evaluated as he assessed the weight of it.

“I should have, yes,” I simply said.

“So why weren’t you?”

“Because I have indestructible skin and super strength,” I replied with a shrug. “There’s no point in me trying to hide it.”

That made my friend grin. “No, there isn’t, is there?”

I looked around. “We shouldn’t stay out in the open like this. If we were tracked before, we could be tracked again.”

“Ooh! We have to find a hiding place! How cool is that?” Walker tapped the bottom of his chin. “How about your place?”

“No.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because if somebody tries to break in they’ll knock over my plants.”

Walker frowned. “You would put the safety of your plants over the safety of your friends?”

“In this case? Yes.” I adjusted my glasses. “Is there another place you could think of?”

He pushed his lips to the side as he thought. After a moment of waiting, I got an excited answer. “Oh, wait! I know the _perfect_ hiding spot!”

“Great. Let’s get going. Text Saburo and tell him where to meet us.” I pulled out my phone and sent a quick message to Erika.

_With Walker. Going to hide out. How is Kyouhei?_

I got a quick reply. _He’s out of surgery. They said that it went well, but we’re still waiting to see if he wakes up. Where are you going to hide out?_

“Walker,” I said, “where are we going, exactly?”

“Just to one of my friend’s place. His name is Kishitani Shinra.”

I slowed down for a few seconds. “Oh. I know where we’re going then.”

“Wait, you know Kishitani?”

“Yeah. I’ll…explain on the way.”

-

“This was a bad idea,” I stated as Walker, Saburo and I sat at Shinra’s table. Shinra, who, unbeknownst to me, had been brutally assaulted in his own home and was now confined to a wheelchair for the time being. Not only that, but Shinra’s wacko-doctor father and his wife had taken up residency. Who wears a full-on _mask?_ Their body-guard, a towering, silent man, set me on edge as well.

Oh, and three people who I had no idea existed were also seated on the couch. Walker gave me a brief run-down about them, but that only made me more confused—and concerned. The young man, Seiji, was obsessed with a woman’s head that had been obtained by his father. His sister, the dour-looking woman who glared at the couple—fulfilled his wishes by taking Seiji’s stalker—the current _girlfriend—_ and performing plastic surgery on her so she looked like she was the head that infatuated Seiji. After finding out that the stalker, Mika Harima, was just pretending to be the “Head,” he basically shrugged his shoulders and went with it.

Was it just me, or was that _extremely_ twisted and bizarre?

“Don’t look so disturbed, Mari-chan,” Walker chuckled. “You’ve been moving more and more into the circle of the unnatural here in Ikebukuro. Just accept it.”

“And just wait until you meet Celty,” Saburo added. “Once she gets here the party will really start.”

I gave my head a shake. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

Though I didn’t exactly need to relieve myself of anything, I took the time to check and see how I looked in the mirror. It hadn’t been a good idea. I desperately needed a change of clothes. Or a bath in general. My makeup was rimmed under my eyes, and my hair was frizzy and even more unruly. There was a dark streak on my stomach from where the sledgehammer hit. My clothes were overall grimy from rolling around in the parking lot. I wasn’t a pretty sight. The stress had taken a toll on my appearance; I wasn’t usually stressed this much, so constantly feeling its weight on my shoulders made me look like a goon.

And what had happened to Shizuo? Was he alright?

There was a commotion in the living room. I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, then dried off with a nearby hand towel. After stifling a yawn, I unlocked the bathroom door and slid it open. When I walked back into the main room, my eyes immediately went to the…the…

The Black Rider.

Something screamed inside of me. I had seen her before, but not this close and not for this long. She wasn’t human, not human, not natural, she belonged in green, mist-covered hills, not the sprawling city. But she was searching, scoping for something that belonged to her but wouldn’t make her _her_ if she found it.

She looked at me through the visor of her cat-eared helmet, sleek body tensing. “Oh, Celty!” Shinra said when he saw that we were locked on each other. “This is Marigold! She’s from America. She’s been here before, when Shizuo and Tom brought Akane—” While he spoke, Celty was furiously typing on her phone. She interrupted him by shoving her phone screen in his face. “Whoa, what are you talking about?” His eyes flickered over to me. I slowly made my way back to the table and sat down. “We’ll talk about it later, yeah? Anyways, let me just start by saying that I missed you…”

The next hour was filled with the strangest sentences, actions, and things that I’ve ever been exposed to. But through all the discord, revelation, and antics, it all boiled down to one thing:

There was trouble brewing in Ikebukuro. And I had no way of backing out and ignoring it. I was in the guild, in the group that was going to get down to the bottom of everything. And in charge of it all?

Celty Sturluson.

I felt sort of bad for her. She didn’t ask for this responsibility, and yet she gracefully took it upon herself to lead. But what I was more concerned about was what she would do or say to me when she had the chance to address my presence.

“You’re really tense,” Walker said as he laid down on the floor to watch television. Everybody else had taken up other spaces to sleep for a bit. Saburo had the couch, and I opted to curl up in the chair.

“Of course I am,” I replied quietly. “The Black Rider…Celty…she makes me…”

“Hot?” Walker prompted. I raised an eyebrow at him. Colors from the television danced across one side of his face, and the other was darkened. The shades had been pulled down on the windows, creating an atmosphere perfect for sleeping. I normally would have been all for it; I loved sleeping! But after all this time, sleep was the last thing that would come. “I mean, you get really warm whenever you’re anxious or angry. Your body temperature rises exponentially, right?”

“Yeah,” I slowly replied. Walker tilted his head.

“Mari-chan, what are you, exactly?”

There was a somewhat prolonged silence. Eventually I merely said, “I don’t know.”

“Do you think you’re human?”

“I…don’t know.”

There was a creak on the wooden floor. Walker and I turned our heads and saw Celty standing there, yellow helmet standing out against the darkness. My instincts had since calmed down, but there was still a sense that she was something dangerous.

Celty typed something on her phone and showed it to me. _I think we need to talk._

“I think we do, too.”

“Don’t mind me,” Walker said, turning around and pretending to act casual. “I’m not even here. There’s no way that I’d hope for some supernatural brawl between two mysterious women.”

I ignored him and looked at the new message on Celty’s phone. _Who are you?_

There was no point in being subtle or coy. We were both too tired to play that game. “My name is Marigold Isoko. I’m from America, yes, and I was adopted by Japanese parents. Because I’m adopted, I have no idea where I came from and why I am the way I am. But whatever feeling you had when you saw me was not unfounded. I got something similar from you.”

Celty gave me more to read. _Izaya Orihara had his eyes on you when you first moved here, but he has his eyes on everyone. I didn’t think anything of it until now. What makes you so different?_

“I, ah, have indestructible skin, for one,” I answered. “And I’m very, very strong. I don’t go throwing vending machines and stop signs around like Shizuo Heiwajima, so I don’t know my limit to how much I can carry. When my heartrate picks up my body temperature climbs. So much that if I get angry or scared enough I’ll start producing flames.”

Walker, the little eavesdropper that he was, faintly gasped.

_That doesn’t sound like something a human would be able to do,_ Celty typed.

“No. And before coming here, I was content with accepting the fact. My parents loved me, I had a good childhood, and it wasn’t hard to conceal the fact that I possessed abilities others didn’t. But then I got the bright idea to come here and, well…it seems that weird attracts weird in Ikebukuro.”

Celty’s shoulders moved as if she was huffing a laugh. _You got that right. But you’ve never wondered where you’ve come from? Your history?_

“Up until these past couple of days, no. But now I’m having second thoughts.”

It took a little while for Celty to type her next message. _When I first saw you, Izaya sent me away before you could get too close. I think he knew we would immediately feel something if we were close enough. But now that our instincts both lit up upon seeing one another, I can tell sense that you have some type of old blood within you._

“Old blood?” I said aloud. “What kind of old blood?”

_I’m not sure. But it sings to me of the sun._

“The sun, huh?” I leaned back and tried running my fingers through my hair, but found that it was so knotted it wouldn’t let me. “That’s…strange.”

Celty put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. _Why don’t we talk about it more after you’ve gotten some sleep. How does that sound?_

“It sounds good. Thank you, Celty.”

Before she had even taken two steps away I was already asleep.

-

When I woke up, Celty was on the ground and a video of a decapitated head blared on her computer screen. __  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is having a good day and enjoyed this poor little oc rarepair fic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I need to really work on the description here...but I always just get so impatient about posting that I never really succeed.

Chaos reigned in the Kishitani apartment for the next thirty minutes. After I had carried Celty to hers and Shinra’s bed, I was exposed to the crazy side of Seiji Yagiri, the crazier side of Namie Yagiri, and the hardcore fanboy side of Walker Yumasaki. After the two twisted siblings had been sedated, everything almost returned to normal. Not knowing what else to do while we waited for Celty to wake up again, I pulled ingredients from the fridge and began to make pancakes for everyone. Even if they didn’t want any, I was hungry enough that I could have finished off the whole batch by myself if I really put my heart into it.

“These are really good, Mari-chan,” Saburo complimented as he dug into his.

“Mmm-hmm,” Walker agreed through a stuffed mouthful.

“Thank you for the meal,” said Mika. “I’ve been starving.”

Mr. Kishitani’s wife hummed happily. “I haven’t had good pancakes like these since leaving America. Do you miss it over there, Marigold?”

I swallowed my bite of pancakes doused in syrup and shrugged. “Every once in a while, I suppose. I miss my family the most.”

“And why did you want to come live here?”

Everybody always asked me that question, and I always gave them the same answer. “Because I don’t know what to do with my life. I figured that maybe I’d get a few ideas if I was halfway around the world.”

She found my reply amusing. Her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “That’s as good as any. So how—”

“Tell me, Marigold,” Shingen Kishitani butted in, voice muffled by the mask he wore, “how well do you fare when you come into contact with…oh, I don’t know, _sharp things?”_

My brows lifted a fraction. “Excuse me?” I asked. Kishitani strolled around to the other side of the counter where I was standing.

“Is your bodily reaction, say, normal? Or is it different?” he posed casually.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to be a little more—”

A knife suddenly glinted in Shingen’s hand. He made a slashing motion with a _hiya_ sound accompanying it. The blade sliced across my bare arm, leaving nothing but a thin imprint that quickly faded.

Saburo and Mika gasped while Shingen triumphantly hooted. “I knew it! You _are_ the one that everybody in my community has been talking about! Perhaps you’d be interested in letting me do a few experiments on you? You would be awarded with a hefty sum, I assure you.”

The room started to get warm. “No, thank you,” I said, trying my hardest not to growl. I didn’t want to get violent and cause even more commotion than there already was.

He wasn’t deterred. “Have you ever felt pain? Ever been ill? I wonder what we’d find in your blood. But how would we even attain some? My, do you always expel such heatwaves whenever you’re uncomfortable? Where did you originate from? What—”

“Keep asking me questions that I’m not going to answer, and I’m going to see if you bleed yourself,” I interrupted, feeling anger flicker across my face. Whatever Shingen’s reaction might have been was hidden behind the mask. “I’m not interested in anything you have to offer.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, unable to take a hint. “And what if I told you that I could help get the answers you want?”

“Then I would say no thank you and continue on with my life.”

Kishitani reached inside his lab coat and pulled out a business card. “Fine, fine, I suppose I can understand your trepidation. But in case you ever change your mind, just give me a call.”

“We’d be happy to examine you,” his wife put in a little too cheerfully.

I looked down at the sleek business card lying flat on the countertop. “I’ve accumulated years of expertise in the medical and anatomical side of the supernatural,” Shingen boasted. “You will be well taken care of, Miss Isoko.”

…Would I?

-

Nothing really happened for the next few hours. I rotated between Walker and Saburo so all three of us could play video games while Mika switched between watching and fretting over Seiji. Shingen Kishitani went out to do whatever shady things he did for a living while Emilia stayed and read a book. The Yagiri siblings remained unconscious, blissfully unaware of what was going on around them. Shinra stayed in his room with Celty, who hadn’t yet awoken. I tried to ignore the fact that I _really_ needed a shower, what from not bathing in two and a half days and being creeped out by Shinra’s dad.

It would have been nice to sleep some more, but any time I began to doze off I was awakened by the foreboding sense that something was about to happen. Because I didn’t know how to describe the feeling, though, I wasn’t able to tell anyone. How could I explain it to them when I had no idea myself?

So, I sat there, feeling an unnamed anxiety grow inside me and wrap around my heart. Nobody paid me any mind; they attributed my current state to my usual quietness. The growing wrongness dulled my senses, made me feel hot and cold all at once. By the time the doorbell rang, I was in a state of near-stupor.

Emilia got up and readily answered it. “Oh!” I heard her say, “May I ask who you are?”

 _Love._  
Saika.  
Love me.  
Monster.  
Saika.  
Saika.

“…Let me check and see if they…”

“…Right this way miss…”

I couldn’t move, couldn’t hardly think. There was a heavy weight on my chest, compressing and crushing and—

The world began to fade away. _Celty…I…I have to tell…Celty…_

But the darkness was overwhelming. I couldn’t even move a finger, let alone make my mouth work. It was no use. I just needed to succumb, to let it wash over me like cold, black water. Inside I started screaming. This had to have been what a slow death felt like. It was without sunlight, without warmth.

Something suddenly surged forward, up from my empty heart. Hot flames rushed through my veins, purging and cleansing the oppressive hold on me. Reality shifted back in place just as the smell of fabric burning reached my nostrils. I was burning my clothes, the couch.

I let out a snarl as feeling came back into my limbs. Leaping up, I ran down the hall and pushed past Saburo, Mika, and Walker. “Everybody get back!” I screamed at them, and pushed Saburo out of the way just as a screeching, primal, dark force burst through the door. It came off its hinges and slammed into me. I grunted as I was pinned against the wall, but pushed the broken remains off of me and clambered to my feet.

“Are you alright?” Saburo asked. Before I could stop him, he reached over and put a hand under my arm. Immediately he reeled back, hissing and trying to shake off the burning feeling.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“It’s okay,” he assured. “I’ll run some cold water on it.”

We went back into the tattered and broken remains of the Kishitani living room. Walker was standing in front of the window—or where the window used to be. He was making a high-pitched noise while thrusting both fists into the air.

“Walker, what’s wrong?” said Saburo. Our friend spun around, revealing the jaw-aching grin on his face.

“My destiny is calling me!” he shrieked.

“Huh?” Saburo grunted.

“Didn’t you see that lady with the glasses?” Walker gushed. He made a Spider-Man gesture with his hand. “She was all shooting wire out of her hands! Then she took off out the window like a superhero! Now she’s flying through the city running from some big blob!”

“That blob was Celty,” I interrupted as I picked off the blackened and burnt hems of my clothes. “Something…something broke inside her. The woman that came through was…she wasn’t natural. She did something to both me and Celty.” My mouth formed into a hard line. “I nearly lost myself.”

“That woman had Shinra, too,” Mika called from the balcony. The three of us walked out to look at the glowing city beneath us. “What do you think—”

“Look at this mess! Alright, everyone,” Emilia interrupted in that ever-sleepy voice of hers, “what happened here? What—”

Then _she_ was interrupted by a shrill, haunting whinny and more crashing sounds. I barely had time to turn around before a headless horse composed of shadows charged through and swept me up over its body. I yelled and grasped onto the saddle horn just as it sprung into the warm night sky. The last thing I glimpsed as I was jerked along with it was Walker beaming from ear-to-ear, Saburo swearing, Mika covering her mouth, and Emilia dreamily smiling.

Then I was wrenched forward as the horse began running down the face of the apartment building. I was waving in the wind like a flag, holding on for dear life. The scream inside my throat was pushed back from the force of the air.

When the horse landed on solid pavement, I lopsidedly landed in its saddle. It didn’t give me time to roll off or adjust in my seat; it started running even faster, dodging shocked and stricken pedestrians and slow-moving cars. “I don’t know how to ride!” I exclaimed as I clung onto dear life. My butt bounced up and down against the saddle while my outstretched legs nearly clotheslined people who were trying to dodge us. Smoke and shadow trailed behind as we raced through the city, and ghostly whinnies bounced off the buildings. I nearly fell off several times, but thanks to my strength I was able to continue hanging on.

Eventually I just closed my eyes and tried to match the roll of my body with the horse’s gallop. The sounds of hooves beating against the pavement, people crying out, and car horns honking overwhelmed my senses. I could have bailed at any time, but…I don’t know, I guessed my gut told me to stay with it. And I was a firm believer in following my gut. Logic was one thing, but instinct… _my_ instinct… was a different matter entirely.

Then, all of a sudden, Celty’s horse came to a full-stop. I snapped my eyes back open and gasped as I was nearly thrown off. “Marigold?” a familiar voice said.

I looked up and saw Shizuo standing in front of the horse, on the other side of the bar that separated the street from the sidewalk. He still had on his blue shades, masking some of his disheveled appearance. A battered bike was propped up on one of his shoulders.

“Shizuo!” I outright wheezed before tumbling off the horse. My clothes had been burned in several areas, including my bra. That was fantastic.

“What are you doing?” he asked confusedly. “Where’s Celty? Isn’t that her ride?”

I merely gulped in some air and staggered to him. When the metal railings stopped me, I took the simplest route around them by simply tearing them apart. Shizuo sucked in a breath. “The…the horse…it’s after Celty…” I tried to explain. “She…Shinra was taken by a woman…a-and she went after them. But, uh, but she’s not _herself._ Something happened, and I think she’s running on a pure primal drive now.”

“And how did you get mixed up into all of this?” Shizuo followed up as he set the bicycle down.

I shook my head once. “It’s too long of a story.”

He snorted. “It always is, isn’t it?” A pause. “Hey…are you alright?”

“No,” I weakly laughed, doubling over and putting my hands on my knees. “Shizuo, I just rode on a _shadow horse._ Down the _side of a building._ It was confirmed that _I’m not exactly human_ by Celty, somebody who knows a lot about not being human. Earlier, somebody attempted to _murder_ Yumasaki and me. And before that, Kyouhei _was hit by a car._ I don’t even know if he’s awake, yet. I don’t know anything, anymore.”

My breathing evened out when I felt a large hand place itself on my cooling back. “Welcome to Ikebukuro,” Shizuo said. I breathed another laugh and straightened, looking up at him. He was smiling for some reason, whether it be to comfort me or because he thought my minor meltdown was amusing. Either way, it made me smile.

I didn’t realize I was going in for a hug until my arms were already wrapped around Shizuo’s lean waist. He made a surprised noise, but didn’t move away. Instead the hug was returned. I was self-conscious of my burnt apparel, knotted hair, and overall grimy appearance, but he didn’t seem to mind any of it.

Shizuo smelled like cigarette smoke and cologne. It was a little satisfying to feel how perfectly my body fit against his. And…and were his fingers curling around the bottom tendrils of my hair?

_They were._

The flick of a shadowy tail brought the two of us out from out little moment. I tried not to scowl at the horse as it scraped a hoof against the pavement. “I think it wants us to get back on,” Shizuo stated.

“Unless you know how to ride a horse, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I said back. The horse nickered and transformed into a motorbike.

“You know how to ride that?” Shizuo asked me.

“Uh, no. You?”

“No. Sorry.” I wasn’t sure if he was apologizing to me or the transforming horse.

The horse then sighed and directed its attention to the broken bicycle Shizuo had been carrying. It snorted. “What, that?” Shizuo said. “A few asshole kids gave it to me after I—”

Apparently, no explanation was needed, for Celty’s mount unleashed a dark tendril and snatched the bike up so it could be absorbed. We watched with bemused smiles as it then shifted into an unbroken version of the bicycle. “Could you make the seat large enough to fit two?” I piped up, then looked to Shizuo and added, “I might as well see what all this crazy shit leads to.”

The horse-bike elongated to accommodate for two people. It then happily rang its bell. “Man, you’re something else, aren’t you?” Shizuo complimented it as he got on. I swung a let over and sat down behind him, firmly putting my arms around his stomach.

“I’d hang on, if I were you,” I advised.

“What?”

Tires screeched against the road as we high-tailed it. Shizuo and I would have toppled over, had he grabbed the black handlebars a second later. The wind whipped through my tangled hair even more as we sped down the street. “Are you going to take us to Celty?” Shizuo asked the horse. It gave an affirmative bell-ring in response. He leaned forward to limit some of the wind resistance, causing me to do the same. “Let’s get going, then!”

We were going faster than cars were, taking random routes that took us into territory unfamiliar to me. “Something isn’t right, here,” Shizuo shouted to me. “It’s no coincidence that all the shit that’s been happening is coming to a head like this.” Anger seeped into his voice. “And there’s only one guy I know who’d be behind it!”

“Who?”

“Izaya Orihara!”

Ah. Right. The supposed arch-nemesis of Shizuo Heiwajima.

Of course it would be.

If only my parents could see me now.

-

We slowed down when we came to a part of the city that was absent of pedestrians or cars. Shizuo and I straightened, and I listened to the wary sense I was getting from the construction workers moving us along. “Those people…they aren’t normal,” I said to Shizuo.

“What do you mean?”

I listened harder as we passed another worker. “It’s…they’re possessed by something,” I answered.

Shizuo tapped his fingers on the handlebar. “The Slashers.” We rolled to a stop. My head tilted as I heard unearthly, metallic sounds coming from the area closed-off by the workers. The bike anxiously rang its bell.

“That’s her,” I confirmed. “I know it is.”

“Well, those Red Eyes aren’t working for the city,” Shizuo growled excitedly, “so let’s bust through them!”

We whipped around and charged through the nearest blocked-off passageway. I decked the possessed man as we passed. Everything around us grew darker as less light filtered into the street. A few well-dressed guards that had no business being here this time of the night were appropriately disposed of by Shizuo. And by appropriately disposed of, I mean thrown in the air until they disappeared from view.

“We’re getting closer,” I whispered to him. The bicycle slowed down, allowing Shizuo to use its pedals to move us forward. When we came around a corner I began feeling the same sensation I had just a short while ago, when Shizuo was abducted by the woman dressed in yellow.

Then I saw her. She was standing next to another man, who was portly and pompous in nature. Above them, inky against the skyline, was a shifting and struggling mass being held in place by Saika’s blades. “Oh, my gosh,” I said numbly as I beheld Celty Sturluson. “That’s her.”

In confirmation of my statement, Celty’s horse reared up on its hind wheel and whinnied again. When it landed back down, we got off and strode forward. “Alright, what did you do to Celty?” Shizuo demanded to know.

“I can answer that,” the woman replied evenly. “The swirling mass above was once the entity you and your friends referred to as Celty Sturluson. As you can see, she is now a rampaging monster.”

“No thanks to you,” I barked. “Where’s Shinra?”

“Yeah,” said Shizuo, “and what the hell are you people up to anyway?” He placed a hand against the nearest wall.

“She,” the woman answered, “or rather, what she used to be, is merely a product ready to be sold.”

“You don’t need to tell them that!” the man beside her hissed.

“There is no point in keeping it a secret from them. She’s not human or a protected species. She’s a monster. Hunting, and selling, such things are my line of business.” Her eyes slid over to me, as if she **knew.**

There was a massive _crack_ in the air as the wall Shizuo had his hand on splintered and formed a large fissure. The man, who I noticed wore a fucking monocle, anxiously looked to the woman. After seeing her neutral demeanor, he gained some confidence and said, “That’s all she is: business. There’s nothing illegal about it. Besides, monsters aren’t supposed to even exist.”

_And what about me? I exist._

An after-thought followed behind. _Goodbye, clothes._

“You’ve got a point there,” Shizuo said, though from the tone of his voice he was going somewhere that didn’t align with their ideologies. “I guess I can sort-of see where you’re coming from.”

“I appreciate your understanding,” the woman spoke.

“Whatever. I don’t care if it’s legal or not. She’s Celty. And she’s one of my best friends, lady. And seeing her like that? Being treated like your _merchandise?”_ He broke off a chunk of the wall and reeled his arm back, yelling, “You think I’m gonna stand here and watch her suffer?”

Shizuo threw the concrete at them. The woman reacted fluidly, roughly pushing her associate out of the way while side-stepping so the projectile missed both she and the man. “D-don’t let him kill me!” he begged. I balled my fists and placed one foot behind the other.

“Let me handle this.” The woman took a step forward closer to Shizuo and me. “You say she’s one of your friends, correct? Look at what she has become. Are you sure you can still call Celty Sturluson your friend?”

“Damn straight I can.”

“Oh really? There’s nothing human about it, anymore. How can you call a raging monster your friend? Better yet, how can you trust the one standing next to you?”

The extra stone in Shizuo’s grip turned to rubble. “Ever since I was a kid, a day hasn’t gone by without me being called a monster.” There was a lowness to his voice, a greater rage that outranked the kind I had previously witnessed. “I know what it’s like to lose my shit, too. But Celty was there to talk me down, and I was lucky she was. Real lucky. She’s saved my ass just by giving a damn about me. I owe her. So now it’s _my_ turn to save her ass.”

He moved to step past her, but the woman latched onto his wrist and stopped him. “Please, just hear me out,” she said, though there was no emotion to her voice that conveyed any particular type of feeling.

“I’m not saying it twice—”

“I envy you, Shizuo Heiwajima. _And_ Celty Sturluson. I never had anyone in my life who cared about me.”

Celty’s ride nervously rang its bell again. “Don’t worry, pal,” Shizuo called, “I’ll go get Celty right now.” He lifted his arm and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder to push her away.

A gun cocking from the shadows made all three of us turn our heads. “I would not do that, if I were you,” a feminine, Russian person spoke. I scowled at who I saw. The pavement under me started to heat.

“Vorona,” Shizuo mumbled.

“I request you to not resist, please,” she said robotically. There was a kind of death in her pale violet eyes. “For your sake.”

“What’re you point that at me, for? That’d better not be real.”

“It is most certainly for real. And I will use it if you do not comply.”

“Would you mind telling me why you’re here, at least?”

“I am working,” she responded. “But it is not for collection job. _She’s_ the client, and if you harm her, I will take action.”

Shizuo seemed more confused than angry, if anything. “There’s no law against having a second gig. But there’s better ones out there.” He let go of the saika possessor. “Alright, you win, just—”

I rammed into Vorona’s side, while one of my hands found the gun and crushed it. She gasped and let go of the case in her grip. Celty’s head was in there. _Celty’s head was in there._ I couldn’t just…just let them _walk away_ with it. Her head was simply a “transaction” to them. Then what would I be? What would Anri be?

Vorona lashed out and hit me in the side of my face. I didn’t even flinch and easily overpowered her. “Don’t try anything,” I growled. “I like you. I don’t want to snap your neck in half.”

“Let her go, Isoko,” the woman said to me. “Killing is in your nature, but ending her life would do more bad than good. I hired her for her services; I wouldn’t like it very much if she died while still being tied to me.”

Meanwhile, Vorona’s eyes moved past my shoulder. Her brows furrowed. “Construction?” she muttered. I heard the grating noise of a moving crane and looked up as well. It carried metal beams in its claw.

Then it dropped them.

Shizuo cried out our names. I automatically shielded Vorona as best I could as steel crashed all around us, creating a cacophony of sounds. At some point Vorona screamed, and at another I screamed as something heavy landed on my back. Though it seemed to last for a lifetime, everything cleared within a matter of seconds.

I coughed as the dust settled and shrugged off a metal beam. “Vorona?” I worriedly said, looking down at the Russian. “Vorona, are you alright?”

“Yes,” she rasped, face twisting in pain. “But…my leg.”

I twisted so I could look behind me. A piece of the debris had landed on her. I cursed and quickly got off so I could remove it. The beam had cut through her outfit and driven through skin and muscle. Blood coated both the metal and her leg.

Shizuo quickly found us. He saw Vorona’s injury and the absence of mine. Crouching beside her, he asked, “Are you alright?”

She tried to smile. “Do not worry for me. Isoko kept most of the debris from falling on me. I have her to thank.”

“Don’t thank me,” I said as I tore a piece of my shirt to staunch the blood flow. It could now be considered a crop top, at least, instead of a burnt-off piece of trash. “Your leg is in pretty bad shape.”

“I will be fine.” Vorona’s eyes filled with shock as she caught what was happening above us. “Shizuo!”

I followed her gaze and saw a distinct figure manning the crane. “Izaya,” Shizuo growled ominously. He swung the crane’s claw around and smacked another construction tractor off the top of the building. It took some of the rooftop with it and fell through the air, intending to lay all of us flat when it hit the bottom.

“Shizuo, get down!” I pleaded, but he just stood there, squaring his feet and bracing himself. In case he couldn’t withstand its blow, I used my body to shield Vorona again.

There was a squealing crash, a stagger, then silence. Vorona and I both gaped as we watched Shizuo stop an entire excavator with just his two hands. He tossed it aside, rolled his shoulders, and started walking to the building’s door. I started to get up, but he heard me and turned his head over his shoulder to say, “Make sure Vorona is safe, Marigold. She’s still my trainee, after all. I’m going after Izaya.”

“Alone?” I said exasperatedly. “That’s pretty stupid.”

“I know. But I’ll be alright.” Shizuo smiled at me. “Thank you. For everything.”

I glanced back up at the rooftop before saying, “Kick his ass, Shizuo.”

His appreciative smile made my stomach do flip-flops. “I will.”

As soon as he was gone I sat on my knees and wiped my dirty brow. I wasn’t starting to feel well; it always happened whenever I was too hot for too long. “Are you going to be alright?” I asked Vorona. “Your leg is in bad shape.”

“I know this,” she replied, propping herself up. “But I must fulfill my contract.” She looked to the woman in yellow, who had made her way over to us.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself,” she said. “I am Kujiragi Kasane.”

“You have Shinra,” I snapped. “And Celty. Let them go, and nobody gets hurt.”

“And will it be you that does the hurting?” Kujiragi questioned coldly. “It would make sense; you have a rage in you that frightens even Saika. But you hardly have to control it. Your abilities are barely unearthed, mainly because you have never found yourself in a circumstance that would awaken them.”

As she talked, I shifted my eyes over to the case laying nearby. If I could just grab Celty’s head and get out of here—

“I would not try anything, if I were you,” Kujiragi said, tracking my eye movement. I scowled at her and dove for the case, intentions unwavering.

Metal wires spun around me and pulled taught. I would have screamed, but the same wires lashed across my mouth. Immediately I flared up as I fought against my restraints. Doing so made me feel light-headed, but I ignored it and thrashed harder. The harder I tried to free myself, though, the tighter the wires pulled. “Saika can hold the Dulahan,” Kujiragi explained as she helped Vorona to her feet. “It’s strong enough to keep you down for a while, too.” She adjusted her glasses, expressionlessly watching as smoke curled from my body. “We shall meet again, Isoko Marigold.”

“What about the head?” Vorona asked her.

“Leave it. Our associate…” she looked over at the fancy fat man cowering in the corner, “will retrieve it. Come. We’re following Heiwajima and Orihara.”

Vorona unsteadily got to her feet. “I am sorry, Isoko,” she said. I continued to make muffled screams and twist even more. This sudden feeling of sheer _helplessness_ was something I had never felt, before, so it made the experience twice as terrifying.

The lightheadedness finally overwhelmed me. My head slapped against the sizzling ground, causing a lens in my glasses to break. The metal wires still dug into my skin and mouth, keeping me bound and silent.

At some point I blacked out, but I was awoken by somebody poking my face. “…Yoo hoo, Marigold…wake up…”

I cracked an eye open and saw that I was looking at a full-face mask. _Shingen._ “So it looks like you _can_ be contained, hm? I’m sure it’s not very fun for you.” In his grip was the case I had dived for just a short while ago.

“What are you doing here?” Kujiragi’s associate demanded to know. He had been injured in the wreck, and was lying on his stomach clutching his wrist.

Shingen crouched down and placed the case in front of him. “I heard Miss Kasane kidnapped my son, so naturally I figured you were behind it.” He popped the locks on the lid open. “And I was right.”

“Your son? What are you talking about?”

He was ignored. Shingen reached inside the container and brought the object out. I couldn’t help but stare at the head in his hands. It was soft and serene, with choppy red hair hanging in front of its half-closed eyes. “She’s mine, do you hear me!” the nameless man demanded.

Shingen stood. “I’m a law-abiding, didn’t you know? Now, should I turn this into the police, or…” he looked at the dark mass above us, “return it to its rightful owner? And look! The owner happens to be right there!” He held the head up. “Doing the honorable thing just became more convenient.”

“No, you idiot! Do you know what’ll happen if you give it back? She’ll forget all her previous memories! And isn’t your son and she in love? She’s not going to remember him!”

The chuckle Shingen made was warped by his mask. “Oh, I’m not going to worry about my dear boy. Knowing him, he’ll make it work. Even if Celty forgets all about him, he’ll find a way to win her back. Sure, it might take another twenty years, but that’s love isn’t it?”

Shingen whirled around and chucked Celty’s head up to the rest of her being. It stayed in the air for a few seconds before falling back to the earth with a fleshy _thud._

I couldn’t help but laugh.

The doctor pointed a finger at me. “You. Shut up. What is it they say? You can’t break an omelet without making a few eggs!” He then heartily laughed.

Shingen’s bodyguard—Igor, was it?—stooped down and picked up the head. “I think you’re using the wrong proverb, doctor. And you don’t break omelets, you make them.”

“Eh, oh well. Let’s talk about it later.” Shingen did a thumbs up. “Let’s get back to the experiment, Igor!”

The bodyguard took off his black blazer, wrung it into a slingshot, and placed the head in the center.

“You can’t do this!” Kujiragi’s coworker exclaimed. Igor spun a few times like he was in shotput, gaining momentum. _“No! Don’t!”_

Igor released his jacket and launched Celty’s head into the night sky, right into the black swarm. It was almost serene, watching it fly and be absorbed.

Then her horse screamed and transformed back into its original form. The mass destroyed the wires holding it and reformed. The power radiating from Celty shook me to my very bones, and called to the ancient thing I had suppressed for so long. The same feeling that the Fiery Dream brought me wracked my body, and I was so surprised by it that I couldn’t fight against the sensation, the fury, the _flames._

Wires turned to liquid as fire burnt away the rest of my clothing and replaced my flesh. The world melted away, my fears melted away, and I was too hot, too hot and too much. Was I screaming? I couldn’t be sure. I was too far away from reality.

Through the blazing light that engulfed my mind, I knew one thing: I could—and I _would—_ destroy everything and everyone in sight if I remained an uncontrolled figure of flames. I had to rein it in, but in doing so I imploded on myself. It **hurt.** I thought I was dying, which made me think of my mom and dad, of Shizuo, of Kyouhei and Erika and Walker and Saburo and Tom and—

Then I just…dissipated.


	8. Chapter 8

_A woman looked at herself in the mirror. She had a mess of coiled black hair sitting on top of her head, framing the gaunt features of her face. A Romanesque nose seemed to be the only thing untouched from her current state. Dark circles lined the deep brown eyes on her face, and the high cheekbones she sported were sharp enough to cut._

_It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. It wasn’t supposed to happen **at all.**_

_The woman’s family would find out, soon enough. And after that the rest would come. They’d smuggle her away, deprive her of the life she so desperately fought for. Once they were done with her, they’d thank her for all that she’d done for the Bloodline and send her back out into a world where everyone pretended that all was normal._

_She tore her despairing gaze away from her reflection and looked down at her belly. The bump was still small, but she knew that her child was made from Fire. The woman hadn’t felt the cold in two and a half months, now. Flames licked her smoke-filled dreams. What would they do to her baby once she gave birth? What would they turn her into?_

_Running was the only option. The woman couldn’t fight, couldn’t speak out. But where would she flee to?_

_Something hot branded her mind, searing in the single thought: **Northeast.**_

_Raising her child was out of the question. It was too dangerous that way. But she couldn’t just bring it into the world in some back alleyway. She’d have to play it smart, play it safe._

_No. Play it normal._

_They’d expect her to do something secretive. The woman would be rooted out that way, as well as the baby. But what if she just did what any normal woman would do if they couldn’t afford to keep their baby?_

_Maybe she wouldn’t make it full term. Maybe the child would kill her with the power it had. Or maybe it’d kill her during childbirth. Or maybe they’d kill her just for being disobedient._

_Or maybe not._

_She would never know the little person growing inside her. But perhaps there was a chance that she could still grow up being loved, and being loved right._

_The woman got on a bus that night for Pennsylvania. That was in the northeast region, wasn’t it?_

_-_

I filled the space of the alleyway, floating ethereally. It wasn’t hard to comprehend that I could see in all directions, because I didn’t _have_ a certain direction. Not only could I view the area in the present, but I just…I _saw_ something that wasn’t from my own memory. It was…it was…

Focusing enough so I could reach a conclusion was too difficult. It was too solid, and could only exist in a corporeal state.

What was going on?

Why was I like this?

Had I ever been anything else? I couldn’t remember. Everything was fading—my memory, the memory that wasn’t mine, the memories that could have been.

An explosion wracked the sky, but that hardly even phased me. Did it last a second? Two hours? The blonde man running down the street…had I known him? Or was I imagining things? The other people, too, they were familiar…or were they? I wasn’t certain of anything, anymore. I wasn’t even certain of myself. Who was I? What had been the purpose of this? How strange.

And yet, it seemed so natural. Like I had always been like this. Why was I thinking? That was too solid, and it only weighed me down. Perhaps if I just…

Let go.

…

…

…

“…Marigold…?”

“…Marigold…!”

“…That you…?”

I slowly shifted from my thoughtlessness and saw that a woman with platinum blonde hair and pale purple eyes was looking up at me, at the smoke I had become. Her mouth was too thin, face too serious, and she was a killer.

How did I know that?

The man in the mask, the man who tried to cut me with a kitchen knife, was standing beside her. “She may be gone, for all we know,” he stated glibly. “Celty’s head rejoining her body must have triggered something. What a shame, too; I had a lot of questions to ask her when all of this was over.”

The blonde woman’s face hardened in determination. “No. She cannot be gone. Shizuo cares for her. And if he cares for her, so do I.”

One of her hands reached up towards me. She barely touched the bottom tendrils of my being, but a fragile graze of a friend was all it took.

My wraithlike state condensed into a singularity, pressing and conforming me to an unnatural shape. I resisted, at first, but with the push came the memories, the thoughts, the emotions. Then I remembered. I remembered who I was.

_Marigold Isoko._

_“You were named after the flower because of your eyes,” Mom told me as I burrowed beneath the blankets of my childhood bed._

_“The rest of the children don’t have eyes like me,” I mumbled. “Why?”_

_“Because there is nobody else like you.”_

_“But_ why, _Mom?”_

_She pursed her lips for a moment, then took my hand in hers. “Do you feel that fire inside you, Daughter? The one that you and only you have?”_

_I nodded once. “That’s why.”_

_“Am I going to do bad things with it?” I asked, looking to her with a nervous gaze._

_Her smile made all my hesitancies wash away. “That is entirely up to you. But, personally, I think you will do_ great _and_ wonderful _things with it.”_

Then I was falling onto the cold and cracked pavement, gasping for air with hot lungs. Steam billowed from my mouth. I had landed on all fours, seeing blurred fingers splayed across the asphalt. My glasses—they had most likely been melted or burned away, just like everything else on my body.

Meaning that I was completely naked.

“Well, would you look at that,” Shingen Kishitani observed, “she came back after all.”

“V-Vorona,” I sputtered. The Russian assassin crouched down beside me and put a tentative hand on my bare back.

“I am here.”

It was difficult to form actual sentences. “Clothes…I need…clothes.”

“Of course. We will get some for you on our way to Shizuo.”

“Shizuo…? He’s...I saw him…”

“Yes. I fear he may kill himself battling Izaya, or kill Izaya and be sent to prison. You wish to help, yes?”

I nodded, feeling the curls on my head bounce up and down. “Good. That is what I thought. Can you see?”

“Ah…yes. I can’t look at things…close up. But far away…” Unable to complete the sentence, I opted for putting a thumb up in the air to signify that I was able.

“You can run?”

“I think so.”

“Then we run.”

“Wait…your leg…” I breathed as I recollected what had happened earlier.

“I ignore pain.”

“Okay.” There was no point in arguing with Vorona, so I let it be.

“Good luck!” Shingen hollered as Vorona and I jogged down the alley and back into the street. While I was naked and still a bit disoriented, she was injured, so we were able to keep pace with each other. Even from our distance, we could tell that there was a massive congregation in the main plaza of Ikebukuro. My senses buzzed with wariness; Saika was running rampant, and though I was almost positive that I couldn’t be slashed, I worried for Vorona.

That is, until she punched in the glass to a shop so we could break in and get me some clothes. There wasn’t any time for picking and choosing; I tore into a package of lacy underwear, put those on, and shimmied into a pair of shorts with pineapples on them and a shirt with the English words: TOILET SEAT. We couldn’t find a bra, so I went without. Vorona asked if I needed shoes, to which I said no. There was no point in having any if I was just going to melt them.

Then we delved into the mayhem. Vorona seemed to accept that there were possessed people all around us and simply dodged and evaded their grasps. I felt a few blades try to penetrate my skin, but it was no use. The rest of the unpossessed gang members and bystanders were gathered around to watch some sort of spectacle.

“They’re over there,” I said to her. “I’m certain of it.”

“Yes,” she agreed, and pushed through more bodies of people.

In the distance, a flash grenade went off.

I hardly had time to take in the scene of Shizuo standing a few feet away from the severely wounded Izaya before Vorona pulled out her spring-knife and aimed it at the info broker. It whizzed through the air and imbedded itself in his side with a _splurch._

Izaya gasped in shock and pain, doubling over and staggering to look at the weapon sticking out of him.

Vorona had another gun in her hands barely a moment after. “Vorona? Marigold?” Shizuo asked, more confused than anything. The people who weren’t possessed by Saika were smart enough to get out of the pathway of her pistol.

“You are human, Shizuo,” she said lowly as she circled around Izaya. “This beast you are becoming is…not you.”

“Don’t kill him,” he pleaded, setting down the vending machine he had been dragging. “It’s not going to do you any good.”

She didn’t waver. “Do not worry for me. Since child, always loved to kill. I am beast.”

Izaya let out a wet laugh. “You’re not a beast,” he corrected, eyes sliding over to me. “You’re just a human. Who happens to be traveling with a beast, it seems.” He began to sway, the injuries becoming too much. “But you’re only an…ordinary human.”

Two more flash grenades went off. Wasn’t that where Russia Sushi was?

“HEY!” a voice boomed, confirming my guess. I watched as a small object hurtled through the air, realizing a second too late that it was a grenade—

_Whoom._

The area was flooded with blinding light. Though everyone else was affected, I only basked in the sudden change. Taking my chance to act, I moved forward and knocked the gun away from Vorona, thumped her in the head for good measure, and then proceeded to tackle Shizuo. He made an _oomph_ noise as we both crashed to the ground.

As soon as the white flash ebbed away, it started to rain. Black drops pelted down on nearly everyone in the square, morphing and twisting to bind them from moving. It avoided us, though, and for that I was grateful. I wasn’t sure what would happen to me if I was touched by it.

“Gah,” Shizuo grunted as he rubbed his eyes. “Get…get off me, Marigold.”

“You’re not going to do anything insane, are you? Like try to _kill_ Izaya?”

“You told me to kick his ass, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I told you to kick his ass, not murder him and then get tossed in prison.”

He sighed, his chest making my body rise. “Alright. Fine. I won’t do anything. And where are your glasses?”

“Good. And I think my glasses are ash floating in the wind, now. What about yours?”

“Same.” As I clambered off him, I was mildly surprised to see Simon, Tom, and Dennis only a few feet away. Izaya Orihara was nowhere to be seen. “Marigold! And Shizuo!” Simon greeted happily, as if we weren’t in the middle of a complete and utter shit show. “Long time, no see, yes?” He got down on both knees so he could prop an unconscious Vorona in his lap.

“Shit,” Heiwajima muttered, “is she going to be okay?”

“I didn’t hit her too hard,” I said, brows furrowing a little. “Just enough to make sure that _she_ didn’t try to murder anybody, either.”

“Why did she do it?”

Simon answered Shizuo for me. “Because she was trying to not make _you_ into a murderer.”

He grunted and looked around. “What the hell is all this? Is it Celty?”

“Yeah,” I responded. “She has her head back, but that still doesn’t explain why she’s roped everyone down.” My eyes locked on a certain individual hobbling into the skyscraper nearest to us. “Is that…is that Shinra?”

Shizuo followed my line of vision. “Yeah. Where’s he going?”

We both turned our heads upwards, where the source of the black rain had originated from. “Celty is up there,” I said. “He’s probably going to go see her.”

“You think we should follow?”

I was exhausted, dirty, and had a major wedgie. Still, though, my shoulders bobbed up and down. “Sure.”

“Marigold,” Simon called before the two of us departed, “Are you good?” He asked the question in English.

I tiredly smiled. “Yeah. I just really need a shower.”

“Your shirt. I like it.”

“Thanks, Simon,” I chuckled. The shirt was more of a brand than anything; I really did feel like a toilet seat at the moment.

“Where were you earlier?” Shizuo questioned as we stepped around those who were restrained by Celty’s powers.

“That’s, ah, a little hard to explain,” I answered. “And I’m not sure what entirely happened myself.”

“Well…whatever went down, I’m glad you’re here.” Shizuo held the building’s door open for me. I remembered the out-of-body experience I had as I stepped through and involuntarily shuddered. That state of in-between was something I never wanted to feel again.

Shinra had already taken the elevator all the way up to the roof, so we waited for it to come back down instead of hauling our asses up the stairs. While Shizuo and I stood there, I spotted a dark stain on his white bartender’s outfit. Craning my head back so my vision could clear a bit, I nodded towards it and said, “You need to be patched up.”

He glanced down at the slash. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

The elevator signaled that it was starting to come back down to the bottom floor. “Uh,” Shizuo started, “You, um, the price tag is still on the back of your shirt.”

I frowned and felt around at the bottom of my neck, then seized onto a paper tag and tore it free. “Thanks,” I muttered, hoping that he wouldn’t ask for an explanation. I was too weary to really give one.

“You’re welcome.”

The ensuing silence was broken by the _ding_ of the elevator bell. Shizuo and I stepped in. He pressed the topmost button and then put his hands in his pockets. While I smelled like freshly-lit matches and new-smelling clothes, he smelled like gasoline and blood. It was a good thing that nobody else was in the elevator with us; they would have been sick just breathing in.

I couldn’t help but lightly laugh at the notion. “What?” asked Shizuo.

“Nothing,” I sighed as my smile grew. “We just make quite the pair, don’t you think?”

“Heh. Yeah.” Shizuo used his good arm to scratch the back of his dirty blonde head. “Hey, so…this may be the worst time ever to ask you this, but…”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Whatever he was going to say was cut off. A shame, too, because I thought that he was maybe going to ask me out on a date.

My dejection was quickly shoved aside, though, when Shizuo and I came through the rooftop doors and caught the glimpse of a shadowy figure riding a horse vanishing into the black sky. It should have been morning by now, yet still looked as though it was past midnight. The Dulahan’s doing, no doubt.

“Was that Celty?” Shizuo asked Shinra, who was standing a few feet away from the rest of the group. I saw Anri, Erika, Mika, Seiji, Namie, and two other beaten, unnamed boys and another girl.

“It was, indeed,” Shinra confirmed rather jovially. “Good timing, Heiwajima.”

“Yeah. Marigold and I saw you come up here, so we followed. What the hell is going on around here?”

“Oh, this and that,” Shinra shrugged. He had an inexplicable smile on his face. Anybody who wore one just after their significant other left forever was never a good sign. “Shizuo, I want you to help me be the bad guy now.”

He and I exchanged confused glances. “What?” Shizuo eventually blurted.

“You know that promise you made me? Back in high school?” Shinra turned and looked back at the woman disappearing into the blackness. “I have to do something incredibly cruel to Celty. She’s the kindest person I know, so I’m pretty sure she’ll forgive me for doing it.” He squared himself as best he could, with all the bandages and casts he had on. “Alright, I’m ready. Kick my ass into orbit.”

After a few tense moments, Shizuo smirked. “If you say so.”

Shinra screamed as the Strongest Man in Ikebukuro suddenly grabbed his ankle and chucked him at high velocity into the dark sky. “I really hope he doesn’t die,” I said to him as we quickly lost sight of the backdoor doctor.

“Me either.”

I focused my attention to the sorry-looking people behind us. Erika rushed forward and hugged me. “Ugh,” she said into the crook of my shoulder with a half-laugh, “you smell awful.”

“So do you,” I said in kind. When we pulled away, I quickly added, “What the hell is going on?”

“Mari-chan, you’re asking the wrong person.”

“And Kyouhei? How is he?”

“Awake and down on the streets, kicking ass and taking names.”

My jaw dropped. “He’s _out of the hospital?_ Erika, he was in a coma not too long ago!”

“Don’t you think I tried to reason with him?”

“What a stupidhead,” I mumbled as I ran a grimy hand down my grimy face. “I’d say that he needed to be checked out by Shinra, but _he_ just got shot into the air like a fucking softball.”

There was a sudden _snap_ in the air. It made me jump and twist my head to the source, which _had_ to be Shinra and Celty. An involuntary tremble ran through my body, but it didn’t trigger anything. I slid my eyes over to Anri, who was looking in the same direction. She felt me looking at her and glanced my way. The slight nod of her head told me that everything was alright.

“Have Shizuo take you home, Mari,” Erika told me, placing both hands on my slumped shoulders. There was a glint in her dark eyes. “Maybe give him a kiss, too.”

“With a mouth I haven’t cleaned in a couple of days?” I scoffed. “No. I’ll wait for a more romantic moment.”

She gave me a peck on the cheek before beckoning Shizuo over and telling him to walk me home. His arm was still bleeding and needed to be patched up, but he continued to ignore it and agreed to see me safely to my apartment. We were all disheveled and bedraggled, so there wasn’t any grand departure of the sort. Everybody just kind of said…bye to each other. It was all sorts of climactic in every anti-climactic way possible.

On our descent back to ground floor, a wave of exhaustion hit me so hard I had to brace myself to keep from falling. “How long has it been since you’ve last slept?” Shizuo questioned in that low, casual voice of his.

“A few hours here and there,” I answered with a weak smile. “You?”

“About the same. But I had an energy drink earlier to hold me over.”

Hesitantly, he extended his arm and draped it over my shoulders to keep me steady. I aptly held back a smirk. Shizuo kept it there even as we got out of the elevator and exited the building. Nobody was being held down, anymore, but there was plenty of disorientation amidst the crowd.

Even Mr. Shintaro, my freaking boss, was gathering his bearings as Shizuo and I passed. “Ah, Isoko,” he breathed when I asked him if he was alright, “I…I think the shop will be closed for today. Is that fine with you?”

It most certainly was.

Halfway home I remembered that my purse, wallet, and phone were still at the Kishitani apartment. I didn’t want to bother Shizuo with taking a detour, but he had no problem with it. Shinra and Celty’s apartment was about twenty minutes away from mine, but we kept a nice, solid pace. I zoned in and out of the world, only kept awake by Shizuo giving me a small jostle whenever he noticed that I was beginning to droop. I walked out of sheer instinct. It seemed to be all that I was running on these days.

Ikebukuro’s sky still had a shroud of gloom over it, yet the feeling it created wasn’t depressing. It was quiet, peaceful, and closing. Like the final chapter of a book had just been finished. Not to my story, but…maybe for others.

Shizuo gazed up at the shattered window of the apartment I had been torn out of by Celty’s horse. “Your stuff is in there?” he absently questioned.

“Yeah,” I said through yet another yawn. “I don’t know how we’re going to get in, unless we bust through the door. But then again, that’d be just another thing that’s broken—”

My sentence was never finished, for Shizuo turned and took a running start towards the building opposite of the one we had been facing. He leapt onto its wall at an astonishing height, dug his fingers into the wall, adjusted, and then pushed off it to the apartment complex. He hit the area right next to Kishitani’s tattered terrace, twisted, and hopped on it. I worried about the injured arm he had used, but he merely cradled it as he stepped inside.

“I want to learn how to do that,” I whispered to myself while I waited. Shortly after, Shizuo came back out with my sea-green colored satchel in his grip, as well as another unidentifiable sack. Instead of taking the route he had for getting up, the debt collector stepped off and plummeted to the pavement below. I couldn’t help but wince at the landing, but Shizuo stood straight and sauntered back to me.

“Here,” he said, handing me my purse. I thanked him and quickly looked inside to make sure all of the contents were accounted for. My phone was dead, but I knew that once I got it charged the device would be bombarded with text messages and phone calls from my parents.

“What’s that other bag for?” I inquired as we began walking again.

“Oh, it’s just some random medical stuff I grabbed from Shinra’s cabinet. My arm needs to be patched up, and I’m not going to a hospital.”

“Maybe you should just wait for Shinra and Celty. I’m sure they’d help you.”

“Nah. They need some time between themselves.”

“Well, when we get back to my place, you can come on up and I’ll see what I can do,” I offered. “I’m no physician, but I can probably look at a few YouTube videos to see how to do things.”

“A-are you sure? I don’t want to cause too much trouble—”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” I smiled. “You can repay me by putting your arm back over my shoulder.”

Shizuo smiled and my heart warmed—in the good, non-flammable way. It was just so…kind. Kind and good and sweet. “Sure,” he obliged, and used his good arm to do so. I didn’t hide my own smile, this time, and wore it unashamedly.

The streets were unnaturally empty as we strolled, allowing us to get to my apartment more quickly. Few words were exchanged, but I attributed that to our combined overtiredness. When I opened my door and took off my shoes, I breathed in the familiar scent of plants that filled the space. They had been neglected these past few days and were probably in need of a watering.

Shizuo followed me in, setting the contents of medical supply onto the counter. “Go ahead, take a seat.” I gestured to the low couch in my living room. “I’m just going to plug in my phone really quick.”

He silently meandered over and sat down, self-conscious of accidentally dirtying the light-colored material with his dirty clothes. I chuckled and set my phone on the floor where its charger was connected. “You’re fine, Shizuo. It’s okay to relax. You think I care about my couch?”

“It’s just clean. I don’t want to make it look bad.”

I snorted and went back over to grab the bag. “Do you see how many plants I have around here? I’ve spilled dirt and gotten stains on more things than I can count.” Sitting down next to Shizuo, I started rummaging around and pulling out everything he had gathered. Setting it on the coffee table, I observed the numerous rolls of bandages, disinfectant, ointment, painkillers, and an arm sling. “Alright,” I breathed, “why don’t you take off your shirt while I wash my hands.”

“Already trying to get me out of my clothes, huh?” he joked.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I retorted teasingly. Shizuo involuntarily blushed, but there was a smirk on his lips. He started unbuttoning the tattered remains of his white shirt as I moved to the kitchen sink and scrubbed my hands clean. Dirt sloughed away, reminding me of just how desperately I needed the shower.

Once my hands were clean, I opened a drawer and grabbed the spare pair of glasses I had taken with me. Shizuo saw me put them on and made a noise. “What?” I scowled as I crossed over to him.

“Nothing,” he lied, “I was just…uh…clearing my throat.”

I hummed doubtfully and pushed the ugly thing up the bridge of my nose. “Don’t judge me. I need them to see.”

“I’m not judging you at all.”

“Whatever,” I said, laughter in my voice. The spare glasses were a spare for a reason. They were oversized and looked like they had been plucked from an eighties crime film. “Just sit still and let me try to help you.”

The long gash in his arm wasn’t as serious as I had expected it to be. I imagined that it healed more rapidly than if a normal person had received it. Still, though, there was a fair amount of dried blood and nasty gunk surrounding the wound. I wound up having us move to the bathroom so I could wash it off. Shizuo watched silently for the first half, making me hyper-aware of what I was doing. To fill the silence and keep me focused, I began humming. Apparently, the tune made him doze, for when I applied disinfectant and some ointment I found him sitting on the closed seat of the toilet with his eyes closed. After thoroughly bandaging it, I gently shook him awake.

“Shizuo? Why don’t you sleep over here for a bit?”

He stood, creating less space in the already small bathroom. “Thank you, but I don’t want to impose or anything...”

“You’re not imposing on anything. My couch turns into a pull-out.” I would have put my hands on my hips, but there wasn’t exactly enough room. “And know that I would be deeply hurt and offended if you refused my hospitality.”

Shizuo stared down at me.

I stared back and smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

After accepting the offer of staying at my place to get a little bit of rest, I took it upon myself to sleep in my own room. I awoke to an afternoon light seeping into the window. It had been dark outside when I passed out, so I had forgotten to pull the blinds down. The unnatural clouds that covered Ikebukuro had drifted apart, meaning that the last of Celty’s powers had finally unwound.

Shizuo was already up when I staggered into the living room and kitchen area, looking as groggy as I felt. “What time is it?” I asked him as I tried rubbing the layer of fatigue from my eyes.

“Around three-thirty in the afternoon,” he replied, voice extra low and scratchy from just having woken up. I shuffled over to the pull-out bed he was sitting on. Shizuo still wore his dirty and torn bartender’s uniform, but he had taken off his bowtie and vest.

I threw myself onto the thin mattress, yawning widely. It made Shizuo yawn as well. “Are you going to head out?” I asked him as I used an arm to rest my head. His unmistakable scent on the blankets and pillow brought me happiness.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I need to get changed. And…thanks for letting me sleep here. I feel a lot better already.”

“No problem,” I returned with a smile. “Stop by anytime.”

Shizuo got to his feet. I sat back up and followed him to the door. After he put his shoes back on, he abruptly turned to me and, with a pink face, blurted out, “Hey, uh do you want to go out…sometime?”

There was hardly a pause. “Definitely,” I immediately grinned. Shizuo’s eyes widened in slight surprise at my eager forwardness.

“O-oh. Really?” It was like he hadn’t _actually_ expected an answer.

I gazed up at him with gold-and-orange eyes. “Shizuo, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since the first moment I saw you throw a vending machine.”

There was an indescribable expression on his face for a few moments before I found myself wrapped up in a hug that lifted me off my feet. I squeezed my eyes shut and reciprocated the gesture. We were both hugging tighter than what was normal, but it wasn’t as if either of us were bothered by it. “What’s a good time for you?” Shizuo breathlessly said as he set me back down on the floor.

“How about tomorrow at seven?” I doubted either of us could really wait to see each other again, and I had no problem being the forthright one.

“That sounds good.” Shizuo smiled, bringing out an eruption of butterflies in my stomach. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“See you soon.”

As soon as the door closed, I took one, two, three breaths, then excitedly bounced on the balls of my feet.

The first person I texted about it was Erika, who promptly responded and eagerly informed me that she’d be over to help me choose an outfit. Then I painfully scrolled through the list of unread messages and missed calls from my parents and hesitantly pressed the camera button to FaceTime them.

I might as well get it out of the way.

-

Ikebukuro recovered from the events that happened surprisingly well. Everybody acted as if nothing had ever happened, and the news moved onto other, more explainable subjects. The flower shop was busier than normal, most likely due to the amount of people buying flowers for those who were injured in the incidents. The quickened pace of my work day helped it go by faster, until I was waving goodbye to a fatigued Mr. Shintaro and headed back to my apartment.

Erika was waiting outside my apartment building when I came around the block. She was sitting on a bench and intensely engaged in a manga. It reminded me that I _had_ promised her that she could take me to Animate and choose a cosplay costume so we could go to an event sometime. I wasn’t too big into that whole scene, but she was already one of my closest friends here and, well, I just wanted to support her.

“So you got a date with the Strongest Man in Ikebukuro, huh?” she grinned slyly as I approached. “Are you two going to have interracial, even _stronger_ babies?”

“No idea,” I replied as I pressed the key fob against the entrance door.

“What if one just, like, _explodes_ out of your stomach and throws the nearest vending machine?”

“Then I hope somebody records it to prove that it actually happened,” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Erika cackled at my response and slapped me on the back.

“Oh, Mari-chan,” she breathed. We stepped into the elevator that would take us to the fourth floor. “I’m so happy that you moved here.”

“Me, too.”

“How was work, today?” Erika asked.

“It was good. Busy, but good. And you? How was work?”

Erika rolled her head back and sighed. “As good as working at a convenience store gets. We had a bunch of British tourists come in and ask for directions, but I can only speak English when I’m drunk. So, you can imagine how it went.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, giving her a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“You should have been there. You could have translated for me,” Erika bemoaned, leaning against the wall of the elevator. “The air conditioner went out, too, so I wanted to stick my head in the freezer section.”

“Did you?”

The elevator stopped and let us out. “At lunch break I did,” she confessed idly. We walked to my apartment door and stepped inside after I had unlocked it. Once our shoes had been taken off, Erika and I went to my small bedroom so we could choose what type of outfit I’d be wearing. Some music played in the background, which was always a must at my apartment.

“Alright,” she said, eyes glinting as her hands rubbed together, “let’s see what you got, eh?”

“Sadly, not much. I haven’t done a lot of shopping since coming here. It’s just never been on top of my priority list. And, in case you couldn’t tell, my body has a _slightly_ different shape than the norm here.”

“Yeah, you got a nice pair of tits and ass,” Erika snorted bluntly. “That’s _so horrible.”_

“You know what I mean,” I said, then pulled out a dress to examine. “Here, I was thinking this one. What do you think?”

Erika hummed and tapped her chin seriously. “It’s…alright. What’s your date going to be, anyways?”

“I have no idea,” I said, tossing the outfit onto the desk chair to be considered later. “I don’t think Shizuo thought that far ahead.”

“Why?” Erika pulled out a sleeveless blouse. “Do you have white shorts to go with this?”

“I do.” She tossed it on the chair. “And I believe that he thought I was going to turn him down.”

“Really? Huh. Well, I can’t blame him. He has his temper and all that, but he’s a pretty shy guy most of the time. He’s spent his whole life having people be afraid of him and getting called a monster.”

“Yeah, but I have my own abnormalities,” I went on. “So it’s not like I think his own would be a big deal.” Another top was pulled out. “What about this?”

“That’s nice… _if_ you were going to the library for the date.”

I frowned and put it back. Erika snorted at my reaction and showed me one of her choices. “How about _this?_ Maybe with a pair of denim shorts?”

“Perhaps. Put it in with the rest.”

Erika’s eyes widened and she gasped as another piece of clothing was taken from the closet. “Ooh! Why not this?”

“I knew you’d pick that outfit,” I grumbled. “I should have hidden it away.”

She held it out in front of me to get a picture of what it’d look like. “Mari-chan, you _have_ to wear this.”

“And what if we go to McDonald’s for the date? Wouldn’t I be overdressed?”

I promptly received a flat look. “If Shizuo takes you to McDonald’s then you need to kick his ass.” Her Cheshire Cat smile widened. “If you wear this dress, he’ll have to take you to someplace _definitely_ fancier than McDonald’s just so he can show you off.”

“No.”

_“Please?_ Just consider it!”

After a grumble, I took the dress and tossed it with the other options. “Alright, fine. _But_ I want to try on the other clothes, first.”

“Of course,” Erika obliged, but I knew which one she’d be voting for.

It wasn’t like the dress was _sexy_ or anything; it was just…well, a couple rungs above “casual.” It was a light, almost nude pink, with a high neck and no sleeves. The top half was a little form-fitting, but flared out into a nice A-line around the midsection. After presenting a thoroughly detailed case as to why I should wear this certain dress, Erika got me to agree on wearing it.

Still, though, we had a fair amount of time before seven. “How are you going to do your hair?” she questioned.

“With what I’m wearing? I’ll probably put it up,” I replied.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair up. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the afro—it makes you look like an ancient Egyptian goddess—but it’d be cool to see you do a different style.”

“I really look like an Egyptian goddess?”

“Oh, hell yeah. The boys nearly tripped over themselves when they first saw you.”

“And you?” I prompted with a playfully raised brow. Erika stretched and laid flat on the bedroll, smiling dreamily.

“I was tripping along with them.”

That boosted my confidence a little. To pass the time, Erika and I watched some random YouTube videos while I answered a few questions she had about English. When 6:15 rolled around, I rinsed off in the shower to wash away some of the work day, put myself in a robe, and then did my makeup while Erika read her manga. Instead of just going with simple mascara, foundation, and brow liner, I also applied some eyeshadow, eyeliner, and a subtle shade of matte lipstick that would go well with the dress I’d be wearing.

Once that was done, I put my hair up in a high bun and secured it with a billion twisty pins. There were a few stray coils by my hairline and the nape of my neck that I couldn’t control, so I let them be. “Put some jewelry on, girl!” Erika commanded while simultaneously trying to catch a Pokémon in my room.

“I feel overdressed,” I said as I stared at myself in the mirror. “Jewelry will just make it worse.”

“At least put on a pair of earrings? That’ll—oh, got you!” A sidelong glance proved that Erika was focused back on her game. But I followed her advice and stuck in little rose gold earrings that weren’t too noticeable.

“What time is it?” I asked her.

“Six forty-two.”

“Awesome.”

Erika hefted herself up and stretched. “I’ll leave you a bit of prep time before your hot date,” she yawned. “You look beautiful.”

I stood and gave her a hug. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Oh, anytime. I’d wish you good luck, but you _really_ don’t need it.”

After I walked Erika to the door and said goodbye, I did the whole “wandering while waiting” technique. Anybody who said that they hadn’t done this was a liar. I slowly circled around the room, fidgeting with plants and straightening things that didn’t need to be straightened. Time ticked by too slowly for my liking, but it passed all the same.

The building’s buzzer went off. I smiled, breathed, and pressed the button to let Shizuo up.


End file.
